


Ice Cream, I Scream

by seizethejongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Death, Explicit Language, Guns, M/M, Violence, a little nonlinear narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 61,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethejongdae/pseuds/seizethejongdae
Summary: When Jongdae started his new job as ice cream boy at a retro dessert diner, he expected long days ahead tending to endless customers and sore arms after scooping out countless orders of ice cream. But he just didn't expect his job to end the way it did, with something red on his hands that most definitely was not strawberry syrup.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the prompter for the prompt, to the mods for their hard work, and to the most beautiful M for all her support, her love, and her everything. Also thanks to Kim Jongdae bless that guy.

“Surprise me,” the young man said, a hint of a smile lifting his lips upwards.

Jongdae blinked.

“What?” Jongdae said, tossing the ice cream scoop between his hands, “Which flavor would you like? There’s plenty to choose from.”

“Why not just surprise me?” the man asked again, leaning across the counter. Jongdae pressed his lips together, his gaze trailing from the wrinkles on the man’s dark leather jacket to his hands that pressed on the counter. He would have to wipe that surface down later wouldn’t he.

“You know, the flavors are labeled next to the ice cream,” Jongdae tried again, pointing downwards at the display case before flourishing his arm above his head, “and the menu’s hanging up here.”

But never once did the man look anywhere except Jongdae’s face even when rows and rows of brightly colored ice cream rested in front of him and a large pink board listing different desserts written in a pretty, red cursive print hung above him. Jongdae was tempted to snap his fingers in front of the man’s face, starting to feel a little uncomfortable with all the attention. It was the little pink heart sticker he had to wear near his eye wasn’t it. What type of a job even required facial stickers as part of the uniform anyways?

“What do you recommend?” the man asked. Jongdae glanced past the man’s broad shoulders and pressed his lips together as he watched the line quickly grow longer and longer until customers had no choice but to stand outside and wait.

“Strawberry’s our top flavor,” Jongdae remembered from his job training as he snapped his attention back to the man, “Try it?”

“Would _you_ pick strawberry?” the man asked.

“I’m not the one in line,” Jongdae replied, already turning his attention to the rest of the retro dessert diner he worked at. He caught a glimpse of two waitresses, Joy and Wendy, whizzing by on roller skates as they served pink milkshakes and sundaes to the seated customers. Honestly Jongdae wondered how major accidents didn’t happen every day since all the servers were required to do their job on roller skates, but if no one died here yet, then he supposed it couldn’t be that bad.

Jongdae continued ignoring the man in front who was _still_ staring before he saw Irene and Seulgi, two other waitresses, whisper to each other before gliding into the kitchen door.

“You can wait over there if you’re not ready to order,” Jongdae said, pointing to the nearest empty table before putting down the ice cream scoop and wiping his hands on his apron. He should be in the kitchen…not out here.

“No, I’m ready!” the man insisted, leaning further over the counter.

Jongdae stared.

He tried not to think about how attractive this customer was. He really did. And he tried not to think of how the man’s black hair seemed effortlessly styled, his bangs just ever so slightly brushing over his dark eyebrows and bright eyes. No. Not at all. And he most _definitely_ did not even once look at the man’s pink lips that looked softer than the cotton candy the diner occasionally sold.

He was here to do a job, and nothing would distract him from this.

Even if the man’s face was literally inches away from his own.

“So?” Jongdae tried to ask again, “What flavor would you like? How many scoops? Sugar cone or waffle? Or a cup?”

“Surprise me,” the man said again, nodding as he looked at Jongdae with a small smile.

Jongdae thought for a moment before he smiled for the first time.

“Alright,” he sweetly said before flipping open the display counter and hovering his scoop over the sealed ice cream tub labeled _surprise_.

“Don’t forget!” a voice called out, “You can’t open the surprise flavor, Jongdae. It’s not for public sale.”

Jongdae turned to look at one of the diner’s owners, Yeeun, who pushed back her pink hair as she brushed past him to retrieve something under the back counter. She smiled at him, but her eyes flashed with warning.

Right.

“That’s not the right type of surprise anyways. Why don’t you give him something he’d like?” Yeeun said before carrying a stack of cups out.

“Sure,” Jongdae smiled again before sliding the display case open and plunging his hand into the cold before scooping out some chocolate ice cream. He neatly placed it onto the mixing board before cleaning the ice cream scoop, scooping out some lemon sorbet, and placing it on top of the chocolate ice cream. Every now and then he looked up from his work to watch as the man’s smile began to seem more strained than sweet. But when Jongdae handed him his mixed ice cream, the man only smiled brighter as he pulled out his wallet and paid.

“What’s your name?” the man asked as Jongdae gave him back his change, “I’m—”

But Seulgi, another waitress, skated by and quickly ushered him to a seat in an empty booth so Jongdae could begin serving the next customers.

“Next,” Jongdae called out. It was already a long day with an even longer line of customers waiting. Luckily the next person knew exactly what they wanted.

As the hours passed and the line shortened until there was no one else to serve, Jongdae looked around the diner and surveyed his new workplace. It was only his first day working here as the ice cream server in this dessert diner, and he was already…bored. Some other waitresses, Yeri and Irene, whispered in a corner on their break while the older kitchen staff, Yubin, Hyerim, and Sunmi, followed Yeeun into the back. He couldn’t hear anything from here, and any secrets they spoke were kept among themselves.

This was what he knew so far.

This diner served refreshing milkshakes of all different flavors, other sweet desserts such as sundaes and banana splits, and breakfast foods like red velvet pancakes. But they were known for their ice cream, homemade every single day in the kitchen. Where Jongdae wasn’t allowed.

Yeeun, Yubin, Hyerim, and Sunmi owned the business and made the ice cream and the other desserts. Irene, Wendy, Seulgi, Joy, and Yeri simply served what the customers ordered. Jongdae was their ice cream boy now.

Jongdae didn’t know why they suddenly needed someone to work the ice cream bar if they had been doing fine on their own before hiring him, but he wasn’t complaining. This job was important after all.

What he did silently complain about, though, was how his bosses insisted that he could not leave the ice cream bar unattended if he wasn’t on break. It wasn’t as if anyone would jump over the counter, hold him at gunpoint, and make off with all of their ice cream anyways. That was impossible. So when no new customers came to buy ice cream, Jongdae gritted his teeth and stayed behind the counter, pacing back and forth as he tried to observe as much as he could from here. Nothing happened. No one tried to steal any ice cream. No one tried to cut the line into the diner. No one even tried to dine and dash.

The momentary peace was disrupted for a single moment as the young man from earlier stood up as he took a call and rushed outside without a single look back, leaving his empty cup behind. For some reason, Jongdae felt almost disappointed when he watched him leave.

For the rest of the day, Jongdae dealt with the after school rush of children handing him sticky bills as he gave them double scoops of colorful ice cream in return, hoping they wouldn’t drop them inside the diner because he was sure he’d be the one to clean it all up. But most of the time he focused and tried to remember every detail he saw so he could describe it perfectly to an artist if he had to.

The diner had pastel pink walls cleanly painted without even a scratch or an off-color scrape. Red neon letters above one of the mint green booths in the back of the diner spelled out LOVE, LAUGHED LIFE in bright cursive lettering. In another corner of the room across from all the booths stood a large jukebox, but Jongdae didn’t know if it actually worked because the same bright, bubblegum pop had been blasting for his entire shift. He also counted two front entrances, one emergency exit near the restrooms, and he was sure there had to be more exits in the kitchen, but he couldn’t confirm that because he was still…not allowed back there.

Irene and Yeri finally stood, stretching before skating around the diner, picking up empty bowls and wiping down abandoned tables. Jongdae briefly remembered how Sunmi had tried to teach him how to skate after he had been hired before giving up, unable to stop giggling long enough to help him as he ungracefully flailed around and finally stumbled to the floor. Multiple times.

But he quickly shook himself out of his thoughts. He was here for a purpose after all, and it was not to daydream and absolutely not to think of the past. Straightening up, he checked on all the ice cream before stealing another look at the diner. There was still no one else to serve, so he continued his steady watch.

Although, when he caught sight of Joy and Seulgi whispering to each other before they made their way to the kitchen as everyone else followed, Jongdae took a step away from the counter, attempting to follow to try and listen in from the door outside. No customer was here anyways. But Yeeun, the last to enter, had noticed Jongdae approaching, and let the door swing shut as she reached forwards to push Jongdae back towards the ice cream bar with a smile.

“You’re the face of our store now. You are the first thing the customers see when they walk through the doors, so you can’t leave your post,” Yeeun said.

“Wow,” Jongdae said, letting himself be shoved to the front of the diner, “So you hired me for my face instead of my spectacular qualifications and dazzling résumé?”

“It’s only your first day, Jongdae,” Yeeun laughed, “Surprise us with how well you can work, and we’ll show you the rest of the place if you stay with us long enough.”

“How long is long enough?” Jongdae asked.

“You’ll see,” Yeeun nodded as the front door swung open, pleasant chimes signaling a new visitor, “And here’s your next customer. Treat them well.”

Jongdae sighed before turning to greet the new customer with a smile. Unluckily, this customer didn’t seem to know what they wanted. Even more unluckily, this customer wasn’t even nearly as attractive as the other man from before, too.

By the end of the long day after the diner had closed and after Jongdae had finished wiping down the countertops with the waitresses, he only waved as he left, too tired to verbally respond to the choruses of _Bye, Jongdae! Have a good night!_

Jongdae turned right after he exited the diner and walked for a block before cutting across the street and continuing onwards for three more blocks until he finally reached where he had parked his pink scooter.

On schedule as expected, his phone began buzzing, and at this time of the day, there was only one person who would be calling. Jongdae took his time to untie his red apron and to peel off the pink sticker from his face before accepting the call.

“Hello Minseok,” Jongdae said as he sat on his scooter and looked behind him one last time to make sure before turning on the engine.

“Hello, Jongdae. Still riding that ridiculous scooter?” Minseok’s voice calmly crackled from the other side.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, “The cushion is so comfortable, but I refuse to drive you or anyone else on it in case anything…happens you know. And besides. It’s pink. Don’t you like it?”

Minseok humored him with a single laugh.

“The car’s still here if you ever want it again. It looks almost brand new now, you know,” he said.

“How’s he,” Jongdae asked instead, thinking of someone else, “How’s he doing?”

There was a pause.

Silence.

Jongdae breathed in.

“No change,” Minseok curtly answered.

Jongdae breathed out.

“Let me know if anything changes,” Jongdae said, clenching his free hand into a fist before relaxing.

“Of course,” Minseok said, “And what about you? How was your first day?”

Jongdae could hear the care in Minseok’s voice, but he didn’t want it and didn’t deserve it. After all, he was still alive, and he could handle himself.

“Nothing’s happened yet. I have to be good at my job if I, the face of the store and head ice cream guy, want to be allowed access to the kitchen,” Jongdae said, trying to sound cheerful about it.

Another pause.

“I know you successfully convinced everyone you’re fine since you managed to snag this job. But you know, you shouldn’t have done this alone,” Minseok said.

“But I am,” Jongdae insisted, “And I will. What’s the next time you’ll call me?”

“Next Friday. 9PM. Not any earlier or later. I’m busy before, and especially at 10PM. If you have to miss my call, wait for the next one,” Minseok said. At least he knew when to stop pushing when Jongdae refused to move.

Jongdae was about to hang up before Minseok’s voice echoed from the speaker again.

“You’re clear on what you have to do, right?” Minseok asked.

Jongdae took another breath, looking at the cars that dangerously sped past him. This was his life now. Work hard so he could keep this job. Work hard so he could be promoted after however long it took. Work hard so he could—

“Jongdae?” Minseok asked again before Jongdae tore his eyes away from the cars and glanced at the sticker he held in his hand.

“Of course,” Jongdae impatiently said, looking behind him again as he snapped into action, “Work undercover as an employee at this dessert diner in order to expose the alleged illegal arms dealing they’ve been suspected of. Use them to get to our main target. Youngmin. Get in and get out.”

Jongdae knew Minseok thought he was rushing into another job, and perhaps he really should have taken more time to recover, but there was no other choice. Jongdae would finish what they had started and right what had been wronged.

“Exactly,” Minseok said, “Nothing more, nothing less. But you forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?” Jongdae asked, keeping his eyes forward as he crushed the sticker in the palm of his hand.

“You know he’ll kill me when he finds out I let you do this alone without him…Especially if you don’t come back in one piece. Or at least two. So just…stay alive,” Minseok ordered as if it was such an easy thing to do, staying alive.

“Gotcha. I won’t die,” Jongdae promised, though it was always easier said than done.

After Minseok hung up, Jongdae stowed his apron into the compartment of his scooter and carefully watched all the cars pass by before driving back home.

 

ϟ

 

Jongdae would’ve thought that this undercover job would have been more…interesting. Or at least more dangerous. He had heard stories of his fellow officers who had went undercover in operations much grittier this, and they often described how they had to see and do things that they would never be able to forget ever again. Jongdae thought he had been lucky with just an average minimum wage job, but still. There should have been more than this.

Of course it had only been one day since he had started, so of course there wouldn’t be anything to immediately do, no arms deals to witness, no people to protect. But he was a trained cop who spent countless hours on patrol only to be _here_ at a dessert diner of all places. Briefly he remembered the first conversation he had with Minseok regarding this case.

“They’ve been caught hanging around the heads of organized crime groups,” Minseok had explained to him, passing Jongdae a file over his desk. As chief of police, Minseok had the privilege of working in a big, private office with windows while Jongdae was stuck outside. Usually he snuck in anyways to visit Minseok when he was bored, but this visit was different.

“Are you sure they’ll lead us to Youngmin?” Jongdae said, glancing at the file before looking up, still disbelieving then, still disbelieving now. “Maybe they just sell ice cream. He’s the worst of the worst, but maybe he just takes his dessert seriously.”

Minseok had a reputation for easily extracting information from hard suspects with not a punch, not a raised voice, but just one look. Jongdae remembered that today as he fidgeted in his seat while Minseok stared at him hard. Questioning Minseok and his information was never a wise idea, but Jongdae was on the verge of doing something reckless, so nothing fazed him anymore.

“The next day, their members were seen walking around with new guns. Most were hand guns, but there were some bigger ones,” Minseok had said, his gaze searching for something in Jongdae’s expression. “They work for Youngmin.”

Jongdae looked down at the file as he inhaled slowly, taking the time to hold his breath before exhaling. Minseok already doubted his capability, doubted his own decision to let Jongdae do this, so if he wasn’t careful, therapy was the only place he’d see for the next months ahead. And traffic control. Jongdae fucking hated traffic control. He’d hate therapy more.

“Then that’s all I need. So what makes you think it’s them for sure? There aren’t any pictures or any evidence. Nothing at all,” Jongdae had said. The light that filtered in from the blinds of the office windows cast shadows across his face.

“I have my sources,” Minseok had said, crossing his arms around his chest. Jongdae stared at him, but Minseok’s expression gave away nothing and he gave Jongdae nothing, so Jongdae conceded and moved on.

“Alright,” Jongdae had slowly said, “So you’re telling me that your sources insist that this diner and its employees and owners are one of the big arms dealers in this city and are responsible for the increase in gang violence because they’re supplying Youngmin’s men with guns.”

“No,” Minseok had said.

“Oh,” Jongdae had relaxed for a moment, “So you were only jok—”

“They’re actually the biggest,” Minseok had corrected, “So are you sure you want to go alone? You should’ve waited for—”

“No,” Jongdae had said, his expression darkening. This was something he needed and wanted to do alone. He _had_ to do this alone. “Bring it on, Minseok. I’ll get you your arms dealers, join them until they lead us to Youngmin so we’ll finally take him down. Let me do this.”

But that was weeks and weeks and weeks ago before Jongdae moved to a different apartment a city away to fit in with his cover, before his identity and records were erased and replaced with a false life he never lived. Minseok had always forbade all the top members of his police force from being photographed or having their picture appear on even the fifteenth page of a newspaper, let alone the cover. Jongdae knew why now. It was lucky Youngmin hated face-to-face deals, but the threat of someone recognizing him was still prominent.

Even then, there wasn’t even a chance he’d be accepted. There was no strange initiation process, no underhand deal to connect him with the diner’s owners. All Jongdae had done was fill out a job application and pray just like every other post-college student that the employers would just take a chance on him.

Luckily, they had taken a liking to him after the interview, so now after all that job training and failed roller skate lessons, he stood here now behind the counter of the ice cream bar on his second day of work. With the same guy from yesterday staring at him with that same smile.

And without giving Jongdae his order.

Jongdae would have loved to stare back, to admire that sweet smile if they were in a different setting. But he was the one working, and this man was the one holding up the increasingly long line that, by now, probably wrapped around the block, so all he did was wrestle an answer out of the man.

Of course it was the same answer.

“Surprise me,” the man dared.

“You got it,” Jongdae smiled as he slid the display open and lowered his arm and the ice cream scoop into the freezer.

Today he served him mint chocolate ice cream and orange sorbet.

“Would you like to pay with card or cash?” Jongdae asked as he handed the man his ice cream even though he knew it would be cash.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before. You seem familiar,” the man said instead as he handed Jongdae a few crumpled up bills.

“I mean…you’ve been coming here every day since I’ve started working here, so that’s probably why,” Jongdae said, looking down at the cash register as he placed the bills in the appropriate places.

“No…that’s not it,” the man said, holding the bowl tightly as he leaned closer to Jongdae.

Jongdae made the mistake of looking up, made the bigger mistake of meeting the man’s eyes, noticing how intently he stared, how wonderful he looked, and made the biggest mistake of averting his gaze to the man’s lips. If he weren’t careful, he’d think some dangerous thoughts. This was a lie. He was already thinking them.

“You’re holding up the line, but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow and stare all you want again,” Jongdae said, looking over the man’s shoulder at the long line before he called out, “Next!”

“Wait!” the man said, glancing quickly at whatever was around him before pointing at the bins containing different syrup packets. “What type of syrup do you recommend?”

Jongdae sighed, reached into the bin beside the cash register, and pulled out a few strawberry syrup packets before leaning over to stuff them in the man’s left chest pocket and patting them for good measure.

“Strawberry’s one of our most popular flavors. Okay?” Jongdae said.

“Okay,” the man smiled, “See you around.”

“See…you,” Jongdae said, glancing a little too long at the man’s retreating back before another customer interrupted him with their order.

As the day passed, Jongdae was supposed to be surveying his co-workers or any suspicious customers, but he couldn’t help himself and kept looking over at the man. It was amusing to watch him try and eat what had been mixed for him. Every time he looked up and caught Jongdae’s gaze, he smiled. Jongdae looked away without returning the smile. The first time.

Jongdae had created his own surprise flavors for him every day, but what was actually _the_ surprise flavor that was sealed away in the corner of the display case? He was forbidden to open it, but maybe…maybe that was where they hid smaller guns? Ammunition?

But he felt like he was being watched even though the waitresses were busy setting down the food and picking up empty dishes, so he just let it be and went back to work. Again, Yeeun occasionally visited him, replenishing the cone supply while reminding him that he couldn’t open the surprise ice cream container. Again, business slowed down in the afternoon, but Jongdae still couldn’t investigate the kitchen, still chained to his post. And again, the man received a call and rushed out, leaving his empty bowl behind.

For the rest of the day, Jongdae tried to make conversations with the waitresses to gauge how much they knew or if they would at least hint at something suspicious about this diner’s operations. But they were far too busy, always skating in and out of the kitchen to deliver the desserts.

Most of the waitresses were young and appeared to be in college. Yeri was the youngest, a high school student, so surely she wasn’t involved in all of this, right? Perhaps the diner functioned as an ice cream restaurant by day that hired regular people and transformed into an arms dealing safe house in the back kitchen by night.

“You know, Yeeun won’t like it if she knows you’ve been seeing that guy every day,” Yeri said as she followed his line of gaze one day.

“It’s not my fault,” Jongdae said, quickly looking away to greet Yeri who wore a few star stickers on her cheeks today, “He visits every day for the ice cream. Not me.”

“Sure,” Yeri said, grabbing the back counter to steady herself.

“If she doesn’t like him, then why does she let him come back then?” Jongdae asked. Could he be involved?

“Business is business,” Yeri shrugged, “And if he’s a steady customer, then she has no reason to kick him out…at least until after he pays.”

“Does he work at a rival ice cream parlor then?” Jongdae asked.

“I don’t know what his day job is,” Yeri smiled sweetly and said it in such a way that Jongdae was _sure_ there was more, but he couldn’t exactly tell. “But if he’s making you forget about work, she’ll chase him out before he can even finish his ice cream.”

“Is this your day and night job?” Jongdae asked, curious to why he never saw Yeri go to school and was always here.

“It’s my job,” Yeri said. And that was all.

But when he tried to follow her into the back door, he was shut out. Again.

“Go home, Jongdae. The door’s over there,” Hyerim smiled as she pointed behind him, “Good work today.”

Before the door completely closed, he caught a glimmer of whisper, a snatch of a conversation.

“I think you can see the Tattooist soon if you want, Joy. What do you think?” Yeeun’s voice sounded before the door shut.

The Tattooist…was that an arms dealer? Who?

But Jongdae couldn’t hear anything else even if he pressed his ear to the door, so he gave up for the day and left. He cut across the street after walking for exactly one block and continued onwards for three more blocks until he reached his pink scooter where he left it. Feeling more tired than he should have felt, he took off his apron, peeled the stickers from his face, and carefully drove home.

Luckily he managed to stay alive today.

Even luckier, he managed to avoid any vehicular accidents.

 

ϟ

 

The rest of the week was the same.

Jongdae scooped out more ice cream than he could remember, wondering why all his police training seemed useless after his biceps and arm muscles felt sore by the end of his shift. Every day like yesterday, like today, like tomorrow, and probably all the days to come, the man visited. Jongdae gave him the oddest flavors he could think of and sent him off after stuffing more strawberry syrup packets in his chest pocket, watching for a few moments as the man took a seat in the diner to eat his ice cream. All of it. At this point Jongdae was just impressed.

“What are you looking at?” Yeri asked as she slid beside him, shaking Jongdae out of his thoughts.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Jongdae said, turning to face her.

But Yeri searched the diner, looking for something Jongdae had been staring at, and turned back to lightly shove Jongdae’s arm.

“Him? Again? Jongdae, that’s not _nothing_ ,” she laughed, “Go talk to him!”

“No, I’m working!” Jongdae shook his head, scowling as he turned back to look at the front of the store. Unfortunately, there were no customers to serve.

“I was here to take your place so you could go on break anyways,” Yeri smiled, “So _go_.”

Jongdae went.

He walked straight outside the diner, past the tables, past the booths, past the man. Still not having worked at the diner long enough, he could not access the back kitchen, so he took his breaks outside.

There were little chairs and benches for anyone who wanted to enjoy their desserts outside, so he’d often sit on an empty bench and stare at the people walking past him.

But today, he didn’t sit alone.

“Can I sit here?” a familiar voice asked.

Jongdae looked up at the man who had seemed to finish his ice cream. Impressive. He silently nodded and scooted over without a second thought.

The man opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jongdae noticed the way the man’s hands slightly trembled, and smiled, taking pity on him as he spoke first.

“How do you manage to eat all the ice cream you buy? I haven’t exactly been kind with the flavors I’ve given you,” Jongdae said, his eyes drifting to the man’s lips, pink from the cold ice cream.

“Well,” the man said. Jongdae didn’t miss the way the man breathed out before continuing to speak. “I was the one that kept insisting that you surprise me.”

“True. So tell me…What’s your name? If you’re going to keep coming back, then we’re going to keep meeting like this. And if we’re going to keep meeting like this, then I can’t just refer to you by That One Attractive Guy Who Always Holds Up The Line,” Jongdae said, this time scooting a little closer to the man, noting with interest the way the man looked at him with his eyebrows raised before he controlled his expression and breathed in and out. This time there was no waver in his breath.

“Sehun,” the man said before asking Jongdae the same.

“Jongdae,” he replied.

For a while they just sat there, appreciating each other’s presences, the warm sunshine, the afternoon life that passed around them with time.

After a moment, Sehun broke the silence.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Sehun smiled.

Jongdae suddenly felt relieved that undercover cops in this specific program were at least allowed to keep their real name. It was easier to obscure and manipulate already existing identities than create new ones after all.

“Yours is wonderful, too,” Jongdae smiled back.

Sehun gazed at him, his eyes flicking to the two pink heart stickers Jongdae wore on his cheek today.

“Do they make you wear that every day?” he asked, reaching out to lightly touch a sticker.

“Shouldn’t you know? You see me all the time,” Jongdae said, “Yeeun likes putting them on me every day.”

“She put one of today’s on a little crooked,” Sehun said, leaning a little closer as he gently pulled a sticker from Jongdae’s face and reoriented them to his liking before moving a little backwards to see how they looked now. “Hearts. They’re cute on you.”

“Yesterday it was stars. You remember, right?” Jongdae said, his fingers moving to his face to touch the sticker.

“Remember…Of course I remember,” Sehun smiled again before it melted off his face, “But I really swear I’ve met you before, Jongdae. I just can’t remember where.”

“Really? I think I would’ve definitely remembered meeting you,” Jongdae said, unable to help himself.

Sehun looked on the verge of saying something, but before he could even think of what to respond, his phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Hello?” Sehun said, turning away from Jongdae from a moment, “Oh, yes I’ll be right there.”

Sehun sighed before turning to Jongdae, his expression falling.

“Jongdae…I’m sorry I have to go now. I’ll see you around, okay?” Sehun apologetically said, pressing his phone against his leather jacket.

“See you,” Jongdae nodded.

Sehun stole one last glance before running off. Jongdae didn’t catch the way Sehun’s cheeks were tinged with pink.

Because he was too busy pressing the backs of his hands to his own, rapidly burning cheeks as well.

But Jongdae couldn’t spend too long looking at Sehun’s retreating figure, as he checked the time and suddenly forgot that it was already 4PM. This week, that meant that Minseok was calling him. Soon.

When Jongdae felt the phone buzz in his pocket minutes later, he cursed and ran as fast as he could and as far away from the diner as he could as he took his phone out of his pocket. If the situation was dangerous, he’d let the call drop, but there really wasn’t anything happening.

When he thought he was finally far enough, he answered.

“Hello?” Jongdae said between his hard breathing.

“Hello,” Minseok’s calm voice sounded through the speaker, “Why do you sound like you’ve been running? Is everything all right?”

“I…forgot to get far enough to take your call,” Jongdae said, “It’s not my fault you wanted to call during work hours.”

“Ah, sorry that couldn’t be helped this week. I’ve got a lot of appointments later today from seven to ten. Do you have anything to report?” Minseok said.

“Not yet. I’m still not allowed into the kitchen. What if I have to work there for years? We need to get Youngmin _now_ ,” Jongdae said, looking behind himself. Just in case.

“Well,” Minseok said, “some undercover cops stay in their roles for years, honestly. But we can pull you out if you don’t want to do this anymore. It’s only been a couple of weeks after all.”

“ _No_ ,” Jongdae quickly interrupted, “I’ll do this. I have to.”

“…Alright,” Minseok sighed, “Anything else new?”

“I met a guy. I mean, I’ve been seeing him every day, but today he told me his name,” Jongdae said, a bit of awe creeping into his voice. Minseok laughed.

“That’s why you almost forgot about today’s call, right? Focus, Jongdae,” he lightly chided. “What’s his name?”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said.

“Oh…Sehun? Interesting. Nice name,” Minseok mused before stating the next time and date of their next call.

“Sehun,” Jongdae could only say in response to acknowledge Minseok.

“Sehun,” he said again after he hung up, savoring the way the consonants and vowels blended together in his mouth, the sweet sound lifting up the corners of his lips.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

It wasn’t always so easy to smile for Jongdae.

When Jongdae was at the hospital visiting him one last time before he left to pursue his undercover job, smiling was the last thing he could do.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae had said as he sat by the edge of the hospital bed, his gaze resting on the white sheets. He would not…could not look up any further.

“I know we were going to do this together, but you’re like…this. And it’s my fault, so I’ll do this for the both of us. For you,” Jongdae said, tightly folding his hands together.

“Minseok,” Jongdae said again, listening as the soft beeping of the hospital monitors interrupted him every now and then, “thinks this is my worst idea yet since I’m jumping into this with minimal undercover training all by myself. But I have to do this. I have to.”

“I’ll come back alive, so don’t worry,” he continued onwards, “Just focus on waking up.”

Jongdae let his eyes travel up the bed, finally gazing at the limp arm poking out of the sheets and reached forward to gently place it inside the blankets just in case he would grow cold. And after he took a deep breath, Jongdae glanced at his face. Same messy brown hair spread out across the pillows. Same soft features. Same long eyelashes.

“Please wake up,” Jongdae said again, feeling his heart plummet out of his chest as he watched his partner, his friend lay motionlessly.

“The next time I’ll come back, everyone will be caught and arrested. So you better be awake. Okay? See you,” Jongdae said before standing up, sending the chair loudly scraping backwards. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t wake him up anyways, as his eyes were still closed and he still slept peacefully.

Jongdae had closed his eyes and sighed before marching out of the hospital room, prepared to give up the life he knew for this job.

It could have been worse.

At least he was alive.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

Jongdae always tried not to think about that last hospital visit because today, he had a job to do, arms dealers to catch. Youngmin to arrest.

But even now, he could do nothing, he found nothing, and he saw nothing suspicious that would’ve tipped him off. It wasn’t Jongdae’s fault that his bosses didn’t trust him enough, so it also wasn’t his fault he passed the time at his mundane job in between serving people ice cream with Sehun outside during his breaks.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than to hang around and eat ice cream all day?” Jongdae asked as he watched Sehun attempt to eat today’s odd combination of flavors. “What do you work as?”

“I’m…” Sehun said, savoring a spoon of ice cream as long as he could, “a model.”

“Really,” Jongdae said, looking at Sehun up and down. Well. That was believable for sure. “What do you model? Hair? You’re not a foot model are you?”

“Clothes,” Sehun said as he spread his arms out for emphasis, “like these.”

Jongdae glanced at Sehun’s dark skinny jeans that slightly shimmered if they moved in the light just right, a tight shirt, and that same thick, leather jacket with giant front pockets.

“Do you ever take that off,” Jongdae said, his gaze resting on Sehun’s jacket for a moment longer. He had his answer after reaching forwards to take out the contents of Sehun’s left breast pocket, finding an alarming number of strawberry syrup packets resting there.

“Jessica, my boss, prefers if her employees wear what we model outside to promote the brand. She always makes us wear these jackets even if we choose to wear different clothing on our off days though,” Sehun said, holding still as Jongdae shoved the strawberry syrup packets back into the pocket.

“Wait,” Jongdae said as his fingers drifted from Sehun’s chest to his shoulder where a circular emblem was stitched carefully into the leather. “Jessica as in…Jessica Jung? The CEO and head designer of the hottest fashion brand? _That_ Jessica?”

“Yeah,” Sehun said before looking at Jongdae curiously, “Why?”

“Because,” Jongdae blinked, “Isn’t that a high-end brand? Everyone in town always wants to get into the monthly fashion shows.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, relaxing a bit before shyly asking Jongdae, “Do you want to go to one? I can get you in.”

“Really?” Jongdae said, raising an eyebrow, “Are you going to walk there? Do I get to see you strut your stuff?”

“Oh maybe this isn’t a good idea then,” Sehun said, hands moving to cover half his face. Wow. He was so cute. “I’ll trip if you keep staring at me the whole time I walk.”

“Sehun, you can’t take back your offer,” Jongdae complained, hands reaching forwards to grasp Sehun’s arm in protest, “And _besides_. It’s only me…You seem to have no problem staring at me every day when I ask you for your order, but you’re worried about _me_ among crowds of how many people that’ll stare at nothing but you?”

“I don’t feel very brave when I’m with you,” Sehun admitted before raising slightly shaking fingers to show Jongdae. “See?”

Jongdae knew.

There was no way he didn’t know by now…not after how many years of being trained in investigation and observation, of picking up on the right hints from the wrong people. Except Sehun seemed right. At least Jongdae felt he was right.

“Well I think you’re still brave for talking to me. For sitting here at least,” Jongdae said, gently nudging Sehun’s shoulder.

“And besides,” Jongdae continued onwards before Sunmi appeared, peeking out of the diner’s door and beckoning him to come back inside with a wave.

“Who said you were the only nervous one when we meet?” he called, racing inside before he could catch Sehun’s response.

But his heart pounded dreadfully against his chest for a different reason as Sunmi led him to the back corner of the diner that was mysteriously empty and ominously dim even though it was the middle of the day. Only the neon lights that the others sat under, LOVE, LAUGHED LIFE, lit up the darkness.

“We have a surprise for you, Jongdae? Why do you look so tense?” Sunmi smiled, looking back at him.

Jongdae flashed a smile, but he was already calculating what he could do if this was a bad situation. Two front door exits. Windows about five meters from him. The tables looked sturdy, so he could use them as a shield if he had to. If he was fast enough.

“Relax, Jongdae. Take a seat,” Yeeun said, glancing at Jongdae as soon as he approached. He supposed he had to work on his acting since she saw through his nerves so easily.

“Why do you think you’re here?” Hyerim asked beside her, folding her hands on the table. Sunmi slid into the booth, taking a spot next to Yubin.

Jongdae pulled up a chair and scooted it closer to the edge of the circular booth, the metallic ends scratching against the floor.

“You’re not going to fire me, are you?” Jongdae asked, finally sitting.

“Oh, no,” Yeeun laughed, “Why would we do that? You’ve been working well.”

“No one’s made it this long without looking into our surprise flavor. Curiosity kills how well they obey,” Yubin said. Jongdae didn’t like how that sounded.

“You’re the first in a long time,” Hyerim nodded.

“So you’re trustworthy,” Sunmi said, “until proven otherwise at least.”

“But it’s…only ice cream. You take it so seriously,” Jongdae said, glancing at how he was positioned. This was point blank range. But all the women’s hands were on the table, so he supposed maybe this was just a super serious meeting with his bosses.

“Has anyone tried to steal your ice cream? Your other desserts?” Jongdae said, unable to help himself. This was the closest he’d gotten in so long.

“Of course,” Yeeun said, the corners of her lips stretching further, “Everyone wants our homemade ice cream. Especially the recipe.”

“Alright,” Jongdae said, “So now that I’ve…not looked into the surprise container, what now?”

“Now,” Yeeun said, “You have two choices. There’s the door right there. You can walk out now or anytime at all. Or you can stay, and we’ll give you something else to do.”

As the neon lights cast a sickly red glow over the young women in front of him, Jongdae made no move to get up.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“I can’t drive,” Jongdae insisted, crossing his arms around his chest.

“Why not?” Wendy asked, “Don’t you have your license?”

“I drive a scooter,” Jongdae firmly said, “Not a car. And most definitely not an ice cream truck.”

“You’re being promoted with a new responsibility, and you don’t want it?” Irene asked curiously.

Today Jongdae sat in one of the booths while the other waitresses crowded around him, excitedly discussing his new promotion. Around them, some customers signaled towards the waitresses for assistance, but all of them were distracted. Yeeun took over Jongdae’s regular task today and stood at the ice cream bar, serving the customers with a smile.

“Seulgi? Jongdae? Why are you still here? You should’ve left five minutes ago,” Hyerim asked as she quickly strode up to them.

“Can’t I just sell ice cream while someone else drives?” Jongdae asked. Of course it was too soon to be promoted to arms dealer boy or even getaway assistant boy, but Jongdae couldn’t believe he was being promoted to _this_. Ice cream truck driver boy.

Hyerim was silent for a moment before she snapped her fingers.

“Yeri,” she commanded, “Go with Jongdae. Help him sell ice cream.”

“Won’t we be short-staffed?” Yeri asked, glancing into diner as she reached upwards to tie her hair into a ponytail. Like Joy but unlike the others, she didn’t wear any sweatbands on her wrist. Joy finally noticed an impatient customer signaling her and skated over to ask them what they needed.

“We’ll be fine. It’ll only be for a few hours. Now go! You’re late,” Hyerim said, pushing them out the door.

“You won’t screw up this simple task, right Jongdae?” Yeri smiled, elbowing Jongdae playfully as they walked out of the diner and climbed into the ice cream truck.

But moments later, Jongdae wasn’t sure if he’d even get a chance to mess up because it was all he could do to not even scream in the back of their bright pink truck that was speeding well past the comfortable speed limit even though they were in a residential district. There really wasn’t anything to grab onto, as Yeri sat in the front with Seulgi and there weren’t any other seats in the back. Just rows of ice cream freezers located on both sides of the truck.

“Can you perhaps…slow down, Seulgi,” Jongdae asked, trying to force unwanted memories out of his head as he held on for his life.

Seulgi only looked at him struggling to keep a straight, unwavering face, and laughed before stepping on the accelerator.

“Please,” Jongdae gritted his teeth. Yeri glanced at him before tapping Seulgi’s arm.

“Slow down. What would they say if you hit a pedestrian accidentally again?” Yeri said. Unlike Jongdae she remained calm, though she kept her hands tightly clasped in her lap.

Again?

Fucking… _again_?

“Yeah I would very much like to stay alive and avoid any fatalities while you’re driving, so if you could just… _not_ that’d be great,” Jongdae yelled.

“Whatever,” Seulgi said before blowing a large bubble with her gum and popping it while slowing down. Slightly.

Today they were selling ice cream near a park, and after a drive that felt years longer than it truly was, Seulgi managed to park them safely, though perhaps too close to the curb for anyone’s liking.

Soon, Seulgi connected her phone to the Bluetooth system, the same perky pop music blasting from the truck’s speakers outside, to draw attention. It was far from the usual music box melodies of traditional ice cream trucks, and occasionally Jongdae caught a few swears in the lyrics.

“Now what,” Jongdae said, still gripping onto the ice cream freezers even though they were completely parked.

“Now we wait. Why don’t you check our inventory? I’m not sure if we ran out from last time. Joy was supposed to do that, but she’s been busy,” Seulgi said, pointing to the back.

Jongdae’s hands trembled as he slid open the freezer and began checking how much ice cream was left. If he had his way, he’d never be near another vehicle ever again.

“Do you think she’s really going to see the Tattooist soon?” Yeri whispered.

“Shh. Not in front of him,” Seulgi hissed as Jongdae did his best to seem like he was minding his own business as he continued checking. They were a little low on strawberry, and he didn’t know how much ice cream they usually sold outside the store, but he thought that they’d be fine. There were two surprise flavor cartons, but he knew better and left them unbothered.

“You have to see him, too, one day if you want to keep working here,” Seulgi whispered as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Unlike Joy and Yeri, she wore a thick, pink sweatband on her left wrist.

Jongdae’s hands hovered over the carton of raspberry sorbet just as he was about to take the cap off. That sounded ominous, but what if the requirement for working here long term was just a tattoo? It was only that, right? Although, he didn’t see anyone who worked at the diner with visible tattoos, so maybe it was just a code name something else.

“I guess,” Yeri said before getting up to help Jongdae.

She opened the windows on both sides of the truck before putting on a pair of gloves.

“So are you in high school?” Jongdae asked as sunlight streamed into the truck, “Is this an after school job?”

Around them, they watched as kids from the park began running over to line up.

“You guys take that side, and I’ll work the opposite window,” Seulgi said, getting up to move to the window behind them.

“This is a job,” Yeri said, checking one last time that everything was in place before they would officially open, “to pay the bills. If I have to cut some classes to do it, I will.”

“What bills,” Jongdae asked. His hours spent interrogating suspects and criminals had hardened him into reflexively asking without any consideration for the person’s feelings. But he still half-regretted his question when he saw Yeri’s face tighten up. He couldn’t help it. As a cop, it was his job to ask the questions no one wanted to ask anyways.

“Electricity. Food. Water. Basic Needs. My younger brother’s tuition,” Yeri started saying as she slid open the display case and began scooping out their first order of strawberry ice cream, “And my mother’s hospital bills.”

“Hospital?” Jongdae asked as he accepted the kid’s money before Yeri handed him his ice cream.

“You don’t need to know what she’s sick with, and honestly I’m sick of talking about it. But she’s fighting and trying so hard to live, so that’s all that matters,” Yeri said as she plastered a smile to her face before welcoming the next person in line and asking them what they would like to order.

“Well I hope she recovers,” Jongdae genuinely said before his gaze fell, “I’ve got someone in the hospital, too.”

This was the closest he had ever been to even speaking of the topic out loud.

“Oh,” Yeri said, looking up suddenly at Jongdae, “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope they’re alright.”

“Me, too,” Jongdae said, “If the people we cared about stayed healthy and alive, then that would take away all our worries, right?”

Yeri looked thoughtful before she looked at him and smiled slightly.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

They didn’t talk anymore about those heavy subjects, and Jongdae didn’t try to pry any information out of her that wouldn’t be useful to the investigation. Because Yeri was still just a kid. A kid perhaps entangled in far more than what she knew. So Jongdae asked about things average people should talk about. He learned what her favorite music was, that her favorite color was red, and that her favorite time of the day was the early hours of the morning when it was still dark.

But as much as Jongdae enjoyed talking to Yeri as they worked, apparently he could not spend a single day working here without bumping into that one guy.

“Hey,” Yeri said as Jongdae scooped out some chocolate ice cream for their next customer. She tapped on Jongdae’s shoulder rapidly to get his attention. “Isn’t that the guy that comes every day? The one that always visits you? And the one you think is cute?”

“Who? I never said anyone was cute,” Jongdae said, flashing Yeri a confused look.

“Him,” Yeri said, pointing out of the window, “He brought a friend today.”

Jongdae looked out of the window and sure enough, there was Sehun with some guy dressed in similar clothes walking to the back of the line. Oh. Yeah. Fuck, he was cute.

“You really just can’t avoid him, can you?” Yeri giggled, “What if he likes you, too?”

“Oh he likes me all right,” Jongdae said, getting back to his work, ignoring the loud thumping of his heart.

“Then do something about it,” Yeri loudly said, elbowing him.

“Can we switch with Seulgi’s side,” Jongdae suddenly said as the line grew shorter and shorter. He had not yet made eye contact with Sehun just yet, but he could feel his gaze all the way from here.

“Why? Did you get nervous all of the sudden?” Yeri teased, noticing with glee that it was Sehun's turn next, "He just wants _your_ ice cream, Jongdae.”

“I’ll see if Seulgi needs any help. Okay?” she said, clapping Jongdae on his shoulder before departing.

Before Jongdae could protest, there Sehun was at the front of the line staring at him like it was the first day they met. His gaze was searching, searching for something that Jongdae didn’t know if he ever found, but that soft gaze, that fond smile that instantly appeared on Sehun’s lips made him forget he had a mission, forget that he had his own problems, forget that Sehun’s friend was talking to him.

“Hello?” his friend tried again, looking at Jongdae and Sehun before laughing, “Sehun, you guys are the _same_. Look at you two…the way you’re staring? Amazing.”

“What would you like?” Jongdae said, not taking his eyes off of Sehun.

“My friend Sehun would like the Jongdae surprise… _your_ special, but I would just like some plain vanilla please. Two scoops. I’m Jongin by the way,” Jongin amusedly said.

Jongdae retreated from the window and began preparing their order. This time he was nice and mixed vanilla and strawberry ice cream for Sehun.

“Cash or credit?” Jongdae asked after he told them their total and handed them their cones. He knew anyways.

“See you, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled at last as he took his surprise ice cream with no complaints after paying.

“See you, Sehun,” Jongdae smiled.

Jongdae watched him leave for a moment before tending to the next customer. He continued scooping out order after order, and the smile he wore and greeted the customers with was brighter than usual. Never once did he have to try to smile today.

After his side of the line had thinned out and finally no one else was left to serve, Jongdae glanced back at Yeri and Seulgi who whispered to each other on the other side of the truck.

“Do we have everything?” Yeri asked.

“Yes,” Seulgi said, “Yeeun made Irene and Wendy prepare everything and double check. We’ll be good for tonight.”

But she must have noticed Jongdae staring before she pointed outside.

“Why don’t you take your break?” Seulgi smiled.

“I’m fine,” Jongdae said, leaning against the display case, “Do continue. Don’t let me stop you.”

Yeri laughed and tugged Jongdae outside of the truck.

“There’s your man,” she said, pointing in the distance where Sehun and Jongin sat, “Take your break there. Say hello to him from me.”

Jongdae grumbled as he took off his apron and swung it across his shoulder before heading over to visit.

“Did you miss him that much you had to come back?” Jongin called out as soon as Jongdae approached.

“I’m on break,” Jongdae said, and that was all. He took a seat next to Sehun, but kept a little distance between them.

“Sure,” Jongin smiled, “Anyways, it’s finally nice to meet the person Sehun won’t shut up about.”

Sehun groaned, slumping in his seat, but Jongin was undeterred. Jongdae maintained a carefully appropriate expression as he looked at Jongin, wondering what else he would say. Jongin wore a thick leather jacket similar to Sehun’s, and his hair was carefully styled. The both of them looked as if they had just come back from a photoshoot, but that couldn’t be it because Sehun looked this good every day.

“Did you know he tells me everyday what stickers you wear?” Jongin laughed, slapping Sehun’s back, “‘Stars, Jongin. Today there were stars on his cheeks!’ he tells me often. You two are so funny.”

“Really,” Jongdae said, looking at Sehun and how his cheeks were flushed, “Does he really.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jongin said, “And he always tells me _oh, Jongdae looks so_ —”

Sehun finally elbowed him.

“Alright, alright,” Jongin laughed. He was the only one laughing. “He really l—”

But thankfully he received a phone call, so they were saved.

“Hey, what’s up,” Jongin said, with a smile before his expression gradually grew more somber, “Oh…Alright. I’ll meet you there in fifteen.”

“Sorry about that,” Jongin said as he got to his feet, “I’ve got to go.”

“Do I need to come, too?” Sehun asked, remaining seated as he looked up at Jongin.

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jongin grinned easily, patting Sehun’s shoulder again, “Hang out with Jongdae. _Tell_ him already. I’ll take care of this.”

The two of them watched Jongin crumple the wrapper that held his cone and discard it before all but sprinting away. Jongin’s back faced them as he ran, so Jongdae missed Jongin’s furrowed eyebrows, the tightened expression that replaced all his previous amusement. Sehun waited until Jongin was completely out of sight before he took a breath and turned to face Jongdae.

“I really want to say so many things,” Sehun said. Jongdae didn’t know if he clenched his hands to hide any shakiness or to show his determination, but his gaze didn’t linger too long on Sehun’s hands.

“Then say them,” Jongdae said. He was a cop. He liked straightforward answers. Interrogations and vague responses or no answers at all just meant extra work for him. Why spend hours circling around an answer when they could just say what they meant and get over it?

“But what if…you don’t appreciate them?” Sehun asked, turning to Jongdae, “What if you don’t respond well when I say them? What if it’s not even the right time?”

Ah.

Sehun was sweet, and Jongdae was more than happy enough to say the things Sehun wanted to say, but he noticed how Sehun was still nervous. Perhaps Sehun needed more time himself. There was no need to rush.

“So what?” Jongdae smiled, relaxing as the sun shone above, batting the clouds out of the way to watch them.

“What?” Sehun asked after taking a shaky breath.

“So what,” Jongdae said, “So what if I don’t appreciate them.”

Even though he knew he would.

“So what if I don’t respond well,” he continued.

Even though he would, oh he would. Sehun never had to worry about that.

“So what if it’s not the right time,” Jongdae finished. And maybe it wasn’t. He was an undercover cop with a goal in mind, Sehun would only distract him, and he didn’t want to bring him into harm’s way.

“So what if all those things happen,” Jongdae said again with a sigh, bumping Sehun’s shoulder with his, “It’s okay. We’re still alive, so it’s not the worst that can happen. Eventually the things you say will be appreciated, will be loved, and one day, if not today, then maybe tomorrow. Maybe later. And if not now, and if never, then it’s fine. You move on. You continue living. A _no_ isn’t the worst that can happen.”

Sehun stared at Jongdae before scooting closer so their bodies touched. Jongdae reminded himself to breathe.

“It is to me,” Sehun said, “when I want so deeply.”

Sehun kept his mouth open, his fists clenched, and looked on the verge of continuing, but after a while, he just sighed and stared ahead. Even if Jongdae wanted to, he wouldn’t help him. This would be something Sehun had to say all by himself.

“Then take your time,” Jongdae said, “You’re not dead yet. You have all the time in the world.”

“I’d fight death before he could take me if I don’t get a chance to say it,” Sehun laughed because apparently this was a thing he could laugh about. But Jongdae who had seen too many bodies, blood, and death lingering around crime scenes, was not laughing.

He’d work undercover, arrest Youngmin, and then it would be the right time for Sehun since he’d be safer.

Before any of them could speak, the ice cream truck drove up to them, sweet profanities blasting out of the speaker behind poppy synths and an obnoxious beat.

“Jongdae, we’re going back. I’ll leave without you if you don’t come,” Seulgi warned from the driver’s seat.

“I’ll take him back,” Sehun called out. He turned to look at Jongdae with wide eyes as if he didn’t even believe he had just done that himself.

“What?” Jongdae said.

Seulgi turned to Yeri to laugh. Jongdae could see their staring from there and hear their whispering from here.

“I’ll take you back,” Sehun said a little more forcefully.

“Have fun then,” Yeri called out, “We’ll see you at work later.”

Jongdae felt his heart beating for a different reason as Sehun reached out to slip an arm around his shoulder as he led him to wherever his vehicle was parked. It was fine. He wouldn’t even be the one driving. But he let out a long exhale when he saw Sehun’s black motorcycle.

“Is this okay?” Sehun asked, “Usually people don’t like motorcycles…or they think they’re too scary.”

“I have a scooter,” Jongdae said, his shoulders slumping in relief, “This is fine.”

“Alright,” Sehun said, pulling out an extra helmet for Jongdae. “One day you can drive me around your scooter then.”

“Mine only seats one,” Jongdae firmly said. Sehun didn’t say anything, just climbed on his motorcycle, revved up the engine, and gestured for Jongdae to get on the back. Jongdae slowly slid on and lightly grabbed Sehun’s waist.

“You can hold on tighter if you want. I won’t go too fast if you’re with me, but I don’t want you to fall off,” Sehun said as he pushed his own helmet onto his head.

“Can you even drive if I’m touching you like this,” Jongdae teased, running his arms lightly over Sehun’s chest before holding onto Sehun’s waist tighter. “What if you crashed?”

“Listen, Jongdae,” Sehun said. Jongdae was almost convinced if he didn’t catch the slight waver at the end of his name. “If you’re with me, I promise I’ll drive safely. I’ll keep you safe. But you have to go easy on me, you know?”

“All right, all right,” Jongdae said, patting Sehun’s shoulder before moving his hands to Sehun’s midsection.

Jongdae enjoyed riding with Sehun, as Sehun never turned recklessly, never even sped up when seeing a yellow light, and always asked if he was fine when they rested at red lights. But it was too bad Jongdae didn’t go back with the others, though, as he would’ve noticed the two tubs of surprise ice cream flavor missing from the truck if he checked the inventory.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae didn’t really know how he could do this.

All he was ever taught during official training was how to establish contact. How to maintain the investigation and find information without exposing his intentions and allegiances. No one in his very hasty undercover cop seminar ever taught him what to do if his heart just _happened_ to betray him and beat for reasons other than the typical adrenaline rush or need for survival.

No one ever warned him that he’d have to break protocol because he’d want to tell Sehun real truths rather than the lies he spun in order to pass the job interview at the diner. No one ever warned him that he’d begin to want something…someone more than he’d want arresting Youngmin and seeing him burn. No one ever warned him about Sehun.

If he wanted this, if he wanted Sehun, then he was going to do it his way. No lies. No deception. Or at least as much as he could muster.

And, oh, he did want.

He wanted very much.

But it was easy to tell the truth to Sehun, or at least little bits of the truth here and there anyways.

There were things he didn’t have to lie about because this was just Sehun, not a dangerous arms dealer or drug smuggler.

Like how his friend Yifan had unfortunately downloaded all his mixtapes to his phone even though they were terrible. How he liked to sing everywhere he was allowed and how he’d sing louder if his friends told him to shut up. And after a while of silence, how his friend was in the hospital.

Sehun easily and openly told him about himself in return. But it was only bits of himself, and he only gave back exactly what Jongdae gave him. Jongdae learned how Jongin had downloaded all his own dance covers to his phone because he wanted Sehun to watch and critique him. How he liked to draw and sketch his friends as ugly caricatures if they told him to stick his head out of his sketchbook. And how after an equal amount of silence how this was the first time he had tried initiating something like this in a while. Since college.

It was easy, being with Sehun. It was easier, talking to him. It was easiest of all, catching himself becoming fonder and fonder of Sehun even if he did nothing but smile.

“Today there’s cherries on your cheek,” Sehun said, reaching out to touch the stickers on Jongdae’s face.

“My bosses want to launch a new flavor,” Jongdae said, “Cherry Bomb. But the waitresses want to name it Red Flavor for simplicity’s sake.”

“What would you mix that with?” Sehun grinned, moving his fingers away.

“Cherry is too easy,” Jongdae said, “What if I mixed iced daiquiri with…peanut butter. How would that taste?”

“Or you could just give me a single scoop. Surprising me doesn’t always have to mean two weird flavors,” Sehun laughed.

“Fine,” Jongdae said, “For you, I’ll close my eyes and pick just one random ice cream flavor next time.”

“Have you tried all of the flavors?” Sehun asked.

“No,” Jongdae admitted, “I’m just here to do my job.”

“Why did you start working here?” Sehun asked, tracing something into his thigh. Jongdae wondered what beautiful art was there, lying imprinted on the fabric of Sehun’s pants. Jongdae soon wondered what art he could leave on Sehun’s skin.

“Oh, you know,” Jongdae hastily said, shaking stunning images from his mind, “Work is work. It gives me something to do, something to distract my mind with. The money isn’t bad either.”

That was true.

He needed something to distract himself from what had happened, so this was where he’d be. Working so he wouldn’t think of what he had done. Doing everything he could so he could bring the men they were chasing down so the past wouldn’t have been for nothing.

“Why did you start working as a model?” Jongdae asked, “I bet they begged you to join them…it’d be hard to resist a face like yours.”

Sehun hid his face behind the sleeves of his leather jacket before speaking.

“You know,” Sehun said in the same tone, “Work is work. I just wanted to do something. Something instead of sitting around all day feeling like I could be doing so much more to help.”

“So you help by blessing the world with pictures of your face,” Jongdae nodded, “Okay that’s pretty kind of you.”

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” Sehun said, lightly pushing against Jongdae’s shoulders as they both let out a laugh. Oh, this was dangerous. Jongdae could feel the affection radiating off of his face, and if he weren’t careful, he’d say something that would make it real. Touchable. Defined instead of an _almost_. “Just…You know.”

He didn’t say anything more, and Jongdae understood what it was like to conceal parts of himself given the nature of his job, so if Sehun didn’t want to speak more, then that would be that.

“If you say I know, then I know,” Jongdae nodded. If Sehun said that mint chocolate chip and orange were the best combined flavors, then they were the best combined flavors. If Sehun said that the sky was pink, the color of strawberry ice cream, then the sky was pink. If Sehun said that his heart was Jongdae’s, then Jongdae’s heart would be his.

This was dangerous, and Jongdae didn’t come here for this, for Sehun.

He came here to work, but he saw Sehun every day at work, so there really was no point in hiding what was developing, repressing what was growing. And besides. Sehun made Jongdae smile so easily nowadays even when he had no reason to smile, so this was more than he deserved, really. Jongdae had to pay attention to how he was acting so he wouldn’t look like a fool, smiling at everything, laughing at everything, loving everything.

Soon their conversation slowed down into a comfortable pace, silence gently interrupting and replying to their words and sentences. Jongdae was convinced that Yeri had abandoned him here after this much time had passed, but he wasn’t complaining. Any time with Sehun was welcome.

Sehun pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and began sketching after asking Jongdae to describe his brother Jongdeok.

“He’s got these eyebrows so straight they look ridiculous on him,” Jongdae said, almost tempted to lean on Sehun’s shoulders. Instead, he peeked over Sehun’s shoulder and observed in awe how Sehun’s pencil began quickly moving over the paper.

“Your eyebrows are straight,” Sehun said as he filled in Jongdeok’s eyebrows, “If they look good on you, they can’t look too bad on your brother.”

Jongdae gently pushed Sehun, a laugh already bubbling out of his chest.

“What can I say…I’m the superior sibling,” Jongdae said, “I bet you’re the more attractive sibling, too.”

Sehun hid his smile as he ducked his head down and focused on his drawing.

“Wow, it really looks like him,” Jongdae said as he stared at the top half of the drawing, “You got the eyes that scream _fuck you I’m the best_ , the big ears, and the same nose. You’re really amazing at drawing, Sehun.”

Sehun froze for a moment before sketching out the bottom half of the drawing even though Jongdae hadn’t even begun to describe Jongdeok’s lower face. Within seconds, the face shifted from being recognizable to someone completely different. Before Jongdae could ask why, Sehun’s phone began to conveniently ring, and he apologetically pulled it out of his pocket.

“I’m so sorry, Jongdae,” Sehun said, placing a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“I’ll give you a surprise single flavor tomorrow,” Jongdae nodded, fighting the pout that threatened to pull his lips downwards, “Be prepared.”

Sehun nodded, hovered a little bit longer above Jongdae as he stood before running off in the distance as he pressed the cellphone to his ear. Perhaps there was a modeling emergency.

But he shook himself out of his daze when he heard Yeeun calling his name from the front door of the diner. He wondered how long she had been there, how much she’d seen.

“Break time’s long over, Jongdae!” she repeated loudly, “It’s ice cream time.”

Of course.

Jongdae didn’t have time to figure out what the flush on his cheeks meant. He had time to talk to Sehun, but that was it. Sehun had to wait. This job was dangerous, and Jongdae didn’t want to involve anyone else if necessary.

Of course, dangerous in theory.

Jongdae was not making any much progress with finding out if the diner’s owners really were Youngmin’s top arms dealers. If there really were guns, the women were either so good at hiding them from Jongdae that he never even saw a stray bullet or they just…didn’t exist. But if Minseok said that they existed, then they existed.

One time while working another shift on the ice cream truck he asked why there were suddenly ten surprise flavors if no one opened them or ever used them. Seulgi didn’t say anything. Of course she didn’t. By now, Jongdae was sure that everyone but Yeri was involved at least minimally in any ongoing suspicious activities.

Another time he swore that he heard something inside the kitchen, but after he took one step away from his station, one of the waitresses had already whisked him back with a smile. By now, Jongdae was sure he worked the ice cream bar because it was the furthest from the kitchen.

So really, Jongdae was an undercover cop with no guns to confiscate, nothing to report, no bad guy to take down because Youngmin was a whole city away. And while Jongdae was stuck here serving ice cream, Youngmin was still at large ruining lives, spreading death, untouched by the police when he deserved nothing more than a bullet to the head.

“Minseok,” Jongdae said one day, looking behind and around him just to make sure he hadn’t been followed before huffing impatiently, “You’re sure this is the right place? Nothing is going on.”

“I’m sure, Jongdae. Trust the information. Be patient. Be vigilant. Stay alive,” Minseok said, “There will be a time for you to take down Youngmin, but if you rush this, who knows when that day may be.”

Jongdae sighed and clenched his free hand into a fist.

“How’s he?” he asked instead.

“No change,” Minseok said.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, his shoulders slumping. There was no one to take down, no good news, and nothing to take off the weight that pressed down on his shoulders and rested heavily in his heart every day.

“It’s not your fault. Focus on the job,” Minseok simply said. He had shown his concern and sympathy before, but after Jongdae talked his way into this job, that was over. He was Minseok, the chief of police who received his rank at such an early age because of his sharp instinct, his calculated patience, and his raw skill. Minseok, who’d been so careful to minimize any casualties on the job and nearly almost failed because of Jongdae. Minseok who’d only let him come back now if he said he’d had enough.

“I’m going to visit him,” Jongdae said, “I’ll be secretive, so don’t stop me.”

He hung up before he could hear Minseok’s reply.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“You fucking fool,” Jongdae muttered as he pulled a chair next to the white hospital bed and sat down, crossing his arms.

“Hey,” Jongdae said a little louder, a little braver, “Did you hear me? You’re a fucking _fool_.”

But that was the most false hostility Jongdae could muster before his expression softened and he sighed.

“Luhan,” he said again.

He looked away from Luhan’s face and towards his brown hair. A bit of it was folded oddly against the pillow, so he reached over to fix it. “Your roots are growing out. Why don’t you just dye it black next time? It’s been a long time since you’ve had black hair…And I’ll speak to the nurses for you. Even if you’re stuck here, they should at least wash your hair and you every now and then.”

Luhan never responded.

All Luhan did, all Luhan could do was continue to lie on the hospital bed, breathing in and out slowly as he slept, as he lay trapped in this coma while a monitor beside them read out how fast Luhan’s heart was beating. He looked at the pulses of green light that reminded him that at least Luhan was still breathing. At least he was still alive.

Jongdae sighed again and propped up his elbows on his knees before he sank his head into his hands, trying to repress the overwhelming guilt that he felt even now.

“Minseok thinks it was a poor decision on my part to go undercover alone,” Jongdae said again, not able to move his head up to face Luhan, “But what can I do? My partner’s lying on a hospital bed in a coma with no sign of waking up. So what did I do? I’m finishing what we started. We couldn’t catch Youngmin and only temporarily inhibited his circles, but if we cut their access to guns and ammunition, then maybe…maybe we’ll have a better chance in the future, right?”

“…Right?” Jongdae softly asked, this time lifting his head from his hands as he continued to stare at Luhan before fondly chuckling.

“You better enjoy all that rest, jackass. When you wake up, it’s going to be my turn to take a long nap. Do you know how much extra paperwork I’ve had to do because you’re gone? Do you know how many mixtapes Yifan made me listen to alone since you weren’t there with me? He misses you so much, too. He made a song for you, and the music wasn’t even half-bad. I can’t speak for the lyrics, but you’ll hear it when you wake up,” Jongdae said before continuing onwards. It was too late to stop now, and this was the only place he could ever talk since he refused to tell anyone else. It was hard enough facing Luhan. It was hard enough facing himself.

“Do you know how much life you’re missing while you’re here? Maybe you won’t know. Maybe you’re going to wake up one day and scream that your favorite show ended or that your favorite band went on concert and toured in our city while you were still knocked out. But I’ll be there,” Jongdae promised as he inched closer to Luhan, reaching out to hold his hand. It was warm. “Minseok doesn’t want me to visit you in case someone happens to recognize me around this city, but he can try all he wants to keep me away—”

“Jongdae?” A voice called out as the door opened. Jongdae quickly turned around to see Yeri looking confusedly at him for a moment before her expression relaxed.

“Oh…I looked in the window and thought it was you. Sorry if I interrupted,” Yeri said, taking a step inside before closing the door behind her.

“What are you doing here?” Jongdae asked.

Yeri scoffed as she explained.

“Did you remember? Do you remember? My mom’s sick here, too, Jongdae,” Yeri said.

Jongdae drove an hour to get here, which meant that at minimum, Yeri had to travel an hour, too. He wondered how she had the time to go to school if she was always working at the diner, taking care of her younger brother, or spending her time here at the hospital.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, “How is she today?”

“No change,” Yeri pressed her lips together before taking another step closer to Jongdae, “What about your…friend? Is he okay?”

“He’s in a coma,” Jongdae said.

“What’s his name?” Yeri asked.

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, trying to smile but giving up at the last moment, “But his nickname is jackass.”

“What does he call you?” Yeri asked.

“…Hot stuff,” Jongdae admitted. He chuckled despite himself.

“What happened?” Yeri asked after letting out a laugh. She hovered over Luhan’s bedside, glancing at him curiously before pointing at an empty chair close by.

“It’s a long story,” Jongdae said, nodding as Yeri sat down. She understood he just didn’t want to talk about it, and finally sat down in the chair beside him. They sat in silence, watching Luhan’s chest rise and fall.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

But it wasn’t a long story.

There wasn’t much to it, really.

All that happened was Jongdae almost caused Luhan to die, that Jongdae was the one who made the mistake, that Jongdae was responsible for Luhan. His partner. His friend. His fault.

That was it.

Jongdae had thought their investigation on one of the biggest organized crime groups led by Youngmin would end well, or at least optimistically after they had managed to shut down the biggest deals going on, and arrest most of the head henchmen. But when the two of them were about to arrest Youngmin, shielded by only one other henchman, Jongdae, distracted by Luhan getting shot out of nowhere, had missed his own shot.

So Youngmin escaped.

And so now they were driving away, far away for their lives as the remaining fleet of Youngmin’s men pursued them, shooting at them from cars, threatening to run into them and smash them off the road.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asked, tearing his gaze off the road for a second to glance at Luhan.

“Fucking _drive_ , Jongdae,” Luhan yelled, violently gesturing forwards. He gritted his teeth, clenching arm in pain. There was so much blood, so much _blood_ , but at least Luhan hadn’t been shot somewhere fatal.

“Stay alive,” Jongdae said, stepping down on the accelerator, the car’s engine roaring louder as he sharply turned.

“It’s only my arm. I’ll liv— _fuck, Jongdae_ ,” Luhan had begun to calmly say before Jongdae had narrowly missed hitting a streetlight.

“Sorry,” Jongdae said, a chuckle escaping even though now was not the time, “This is why you drive us around all the time.”

A group of oncoming black cars Jongdae knew he had to avoid drove straight at them, and he raced through a red light and turned left. The reality of their situation dragged his lips down and caused any former amusement to dissolve.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, “This is my fault. I had the shot, and I missed.”

“Hey…hot stuff. Shut up,” Luhan said, taking a hand off of his arm to squeeze Jongdae’s shoulder. The action smeared blood on his shirt, but Jongdae didn’t care. “If you didn’t help me out of there instead of pursuing Youngmin, I would’ve died. I owe you my life, bro.”

“ _Bro_ ,” Jongdae said, his expression brightening. Luhan always cheered him up no matter how hard their job was, no matter what things they had to see on patrol. “We’ll get him next time then. You and me.”

“That’s it,” Luhan enthusiastically said before wincing. His hand limply fell off of Jongdae’s shoulder and slowly, he grabbed his injured arm again to stop the bleeding.

“Hey,” Jongdae said, turning to stare at Luhan again even though now was not the time, as more black cars had cut across the intersection to drive towards them. Jongdae looked back and turned the wheel as quickly as he could. “Stay with me. Stay alive. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t die, Luhan. _Please_.”

But bleeding out was the least of their worries, as car after car after car continued to chase after them. Jongdae didn’t look behind him to see how many cars had followed because he had bigger problems, as more vehicles threatened to smash into their sides, and others began to approach in front of them.

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Luhan yelled, pointing at the cars that began to drive straight at them. Such was the price for thinking they could take Youngmin down.

At the last second, Jongdae swerved to the left.

At the last second, Jongdae realized what he had done.

At the last second, Jongdae realized it was too late, he had turned too late, as the sight of an oncoming car inches away from slamming into them was the last thing he saw.

An hour later, he had been able to blink, to wake up.

But Luhan did not.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

Now he was here for Luhan. All this, he did for Luhan. Of course there was a part of him that knew he was here because he didn’t want to deal with the truth and preferred running away from the past, running towards who even knew what because it was simply easier. But that was the least of his worries.

If he stayed here in the dessert diner, if he caught the gun dealers, if he caught Youngmin, then he would make up for what he had thought he had done before. He would make up for how he failed Luhan.

That didn’t guarantee Luhan regaining consciousness, but at least whenever he woke up, Jongdae would be there to reassure him that there would be nothing more to worry about.

Because he would wake up.

He would.

So Jongdae did his time, pretended to be Jongdae the cheerful ice cream boy and hid Jongdae the grieving cop, the person who hurt his best friend, his best partner. He never gave himself time to deal with all those feeling, because he was here on a job. Vengeance. He wasn’t making progress on his own, so he took Minseok’s advice and stayed even more vigilant and tried to be even more patient even though he needed results _now_.

Sure enough eventually, he began to notice some things that had to be what he was looking for.

In the morning one day Jongdae came early, he noticed a few splatters of what at first looked like strawberry syrup leading into the kitchen door. But that was only at the first glance because he had been a cop for long enough to know that couldn’t be just strawberry syrup.

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Yeeun smiled as she lead Jongdae to the ice cream counter. Jongdae stole one last look at the splatter before Sunmi immediately leaped downwards to mop it up.

“Good morning,” Jongdae said, still trying to look before his view was completely blocked.

“We’ve just restocked for the day. Don’t open the surprise containers of course,” she said, pointing to the sealed tubs beside them.

“I know,” Jongdae said.

Yeeun patted Jongdae’s shoulder before leaving and heading into the kitchen. Jongdae looked back, and the red stain was gone.

If there was nothing he could notice from out here in the diner, then he paid attention to the people. None of the waitresses seemed to act suspiciously. The older women still went in and out of the kitchen with smiles on their faces, their makeup perfectly on point despite the long working hours, and their hair always perfectly brushed and styled.

The younger waitresses just seemed like regular girls that liked to talk to Jongdae whenever they had their breaks. All of them were cheerful enough when doing their job, but one morning Joy walked in wearing a smile that seemed more strained than real.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when she sat down to take a break.

“Yes, of course,” Joy said, keeping her head down and her gaze to the floor, “Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“You don’t look fine,” Jongdae said, watching as she bent down to untie and retie the shoelaces of her roller skates.

“I’m _fine_ ,” she tersely said. Jongdae watched her tie her shoelaces and noticed a pink wristband now covered her left wrist just most like the others. As Joy stood up and skated away from him, he wondered what that meant.

Seulgi and Irene beckoned Joy to come and whispered to her, occasionally looking back at Jongdae. Seulgi waved at him before turning back to the conversation as if nothing was wrong even though Jongdae knew something had to be.

After a few more days of this, Jongdae grew impatient. Cops didn’t sit around serving ice cream waiting to be invited into the kitchen where he knew everything happened. Cops like him or at least undercover agents snuck around when they weren’t supposed to where they weren’t supposed to, and even though Minseok reminded him to stay safe always, tonight, Jongdae thought it was time he actively investigated instead of waiting for information to drop easily into his hands.

It was easier than it seemed. The diner didn’t have any cameras to perhaps avoid recording any record of illegal dealings or activities that occurred here, so all Jongdae had to do was hide out in the men’s bathroom before everyone went home for the day. After waiting long enough, he cautiously opened the door and snuck back into the diner. At this time of night, only the red neon words lit up the darkness, and Jongdae attempted to feel his way around the diner before pulling out a small flashlight.

Without hesitating, he pushed open the metallic kitchen door and slightly relaxed.

It was just a kitchen.

Not that he expected any contraband things and gun slings to be hanging around the room, but there really was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, the space seemed more like a small warehouse than a kitchen. Stairs led to the cramped upper level where there was just enough space for a few boxes to be stored and for people to stand and watch what was going on below. On the main floor of the kitchen, a stove, ice cream machines, and freezers lined the walls leaving plenty of empty space in between.

Jongdae shone his light on the nearest freezer before slowly pulling the door open. Instantly, he was met only with a cold chill and nothing noteworthy. No dead bodies here. He had seen enough of that on the field, so seeing a freezer full of just ice cream and other food was a pleasant surprise.

Carefully, Jongdae pried open the lid of the first unsealed ice cream container, only to be met with a creamy pink frozen mixture and little flecks of red inside. It was only strawberry ice cream. There were no guns…not even a single bullet here. Jongdae was about to reach forwards to check another container, but suddenly the sound of a voice caused him to turn off his flashlight and dive behind a smaller freezer on the opposite side of the wall near the exit.

“Did you hear that?” a voice said.

Fuck.

He had thought everyone had left for the day, but apparently not.

“I didn’t hear anything, Sunmi. Are you sure?” another voice sounded.

“It came from the kitchen,” Sunmi said, and Jongdae heard the door slide open.

Jongdae held his breath and did not panic. Best case scenario they’d leave without looking inside. Worse case scenario he’d be found and would have to give an excuse.

_Oh, I was just protecting the ice cream like you told me to do. This is my job after all. Haha._

_Sorry, who are you? I hit my head and suddenly I can’t remember anything or how I got here._

_Hey, the new ice cream bar you made inside here looks real sick. Can’t wait to serve the customers from here tomorrow._

Worst case scenario they’d kill him.

Jongdae blinked as the lights inside the kitchen flooded on and as he heard people walk inside. After many high stake situations, Jongdae learned how to control the panic, the fear, but that did not mean he had ever figured out how to stop his heart from racing and pounding violently against his chest.

“It’s nothing, Sunmi. Let’s just discuss what has to be done,” a voice said.

Jongdae closed his eyes, trying to piece together the situation from what he heard. He counted four distinct sets of footsteps. No doubt they belonged to Yeeun, Sunmi, Hyerim, and Yubin. From where Sunmi spoke, she sounded near the first freezer he checked. Yubin sounded closer to the door, but who knew where she was now. The others were unaccounted for, but—

Jongdae pressed himself harder in the wall and crouched down even lower, trying to make himself as small as possible when suddenly Sunmi hopped onto the small freezer he hid behind without warning. She sat with her back to him, occupied with tying her hair up.

_Fuck._

All she’d have to do was look behind her, and it’d be over.

“We have to expect a bigger shipment this time,” Yeeun said from somewhere near the entrance of the kitchen, “He didn’t seem as pleased as last time, so we have to do better since…you know.”

He?

Youngmin?

Could it be?

Jongdae waited for them to drop his name, but it never came.

“Everything’s all set, right? Same like usual?” Yubin asked, breaking the short silence.

“Yes,” Hyerim said from what sounded like the right side of the kitchen, “Everything’s good to go, and we’ll have Wendy and Irene work on it this time. Seulgi can help Joy since she’s…new.”

New? But she had worked here long before Jongdae. He was sure.

“It was finally time she saw the Tattooist anyways,” Yeeun said, “She waited long enough.”

“What do we do with Jongdae?” Sunmi asked, causing Jongdae to stop breathing, “He seems trustworthy, and he hasn’t even peeked once inside the surprise corners or been inside the kitchen. I think we can let him in, yes?”

If only she saw what he was doing a while before. Jongdae still appreciated her trust in him even though it was misplaced.

“It’s too early to decide that,” Yeeun said, “It’s true he hasn’t looked, but this kind of job…this kind of promotion takes the most trust. If we let someone in we’re not absolutely sure of, you know what’ll happen.”

“We can at least hint at him what we do,” Yubin said, “Like what we’ve done with Yeri.”

“We should give him an initiation gift,” Hyerim laughed, “The apron and the daily stickers won’t cut it. He needs a true welcoming gift. The same one we give all our other longtime girls.”

Before anyone could give a direct answer, the conversation shifted to more regular matters like diner business and profit margins. Jongdae continued crouching behind the refrigerator because there wasn’t anything else he could do. He closed his eyes and counted all the possible exits he had seen. There was the main kitchen door, but it would be impossible to escape from there. The stairs to the top level were too far away and uncovered. He had caught a glimpse of a back door, but he didn’t know if the door were creaky, so it would be too risky to sneak there.

“Grab the ice cream, and let’s go then. Let’s restock,” Yeeun finally said after a while.

The four of them grabbed what sounded like tubs of ice cream from the freezer. Jongdae waited until he was sure they had left until he rushed out the back door.

The cold night air hit him harder than the frozen chills of the freezer, and he gasped, taking in as much air as possible before he sprinted off in the distance to his pink scooter. Not once did he stop running until he was sure it was safe to breathe as loudly as possible, and not once did he look back.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

The next day, Jongdae walked in and reported for his shift with a smile on his face as if he hadn’t just been sneaking around where he was not meant to go and heard some things he was not meant to hear.

“Good morning,” Jongdae said, throwing on his apron and tying it on his back as he prepared to dive straight into prep for the day before they would officially open. Today he would work like he was supposed to in order to avoid attracting any extra attention to himself.

He was not that lucky.

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Yeeun said as the chorus of women echoed the sentiment behind him. She approached him, leaning over to try and meet his gaze.

“What’s up,” he said, giving up and looking her at last. There was a certain look in her eyes, and he gripped the edge of the ice cream display case a little harder as he waited for her to speak or do something.

“I just wanted to have a talk. Boss to employee,” Yeeun said, reaching into her pocket.

“Yes?” Jongdae said. Yeeun pulled out stickers and placed one on Jongdae’s cheek. Today it was a tiny red strawberry.

“You’ve been doing so well here, working your way up from ice cream boy to ice cream boy on a truck,” Yeeun said.

“Thank you,” Jongdae nodded, “It’s nice to know you trust me with doing the same job on a parked vehicle.”

“Yes, we’ve trusted you, and you’ve done well. You haven’t opened any of the things we asked you to not open and didn’t even enter into the kitchen once,” Yeeun said.

“Well, you insisted that I was the face of the shop. How can I greet people with this handsome face if I’m inside or bending down looking at stuff I’m not supposed to,” Jongdae said, pointing to his face.

Yeeun let out a laugh, clapping her hands together.

“Bringing you on board was a good decision,” Yeeun said.

“Anyways,” Jongdae said, “Am I getting promoted again?”

“No,” Yeeun said, “We’re just giving you a gift. A welcoming gift. A promise for something to come.”

“Oh?” Jongdae said, “Is it an ice cream machine? A secret recipe to the strawberry flavor that everyone loves? I’ll even be grateful for a pack of strawberry syrup.”

He was rambling now, and he couldn’t help himself. Luhan always laughed at him when they were on the job and he ran his mouth to stay calm.

“Here,” Yeeun said, reaching to pull something out from her back and pressing something familiar into Jongdae’s hands.

“A gun,” Jongdae said, his fingers loosely wrapping over the back of the gun.

“If you stay long enough, one day you’ll use it,” Yeeun smiled, patting Jongdae on the shoulder, “But the door’s right there.”

She tilted her head to the front doors of the place. Any second now, they’d be open for business, and a customer could walk in.

“The time to leave is now. If you want to go, we’ll let you go, but this is your chance if you don’t want to be a part of this,” Yeeun said.

Jongdae stared at her for a second, not even considering what she said, but trying to consider her. She seemed young. Of course, he couldn’t exactly tell because she took good care of her appearance and dyed her hair so he couldn’t pick out any potential white hairs. So how did she become involved in all of this? How had they all gotten involved in this? How had they roped in all the younger waitresses, too? He was sure in another life, if things were different, Yeeun would just be a regular business owner with a passion for sweet treats. He just didn’t know what had happened to make her feel like she had no choice but to turn to this. Working for Youngmin.

“Jongdae?” Yeeun smiled expectantly.

“You guys take your ice cream so seriously,” Jongdae could only say before he concealed the gun on his body. He looked towards the doors instead of checking her expression, and soon enough, the first customer walked in. Jongdae watched the front doors swing open and close before remembering to greet the customer. This was it. He was getting closer.

“Hello! One vanilla ice cream sandwich please,” the customer, said.

“Hello! Excellent choice…let me grab that for you,” Jongdae said, putting on his gloves and grabbing two cookies. After Jongdae finished serving three other customers, Yeeun finally left, disappearing back into the kitchen.

He had a moment’s pause, a moment’s break to consider that this really was it…Minseok was right.

Jongdae had rushed into this job, but briefly he thought it would’ve been safer working with Luhan, one working the cashier, the other handing out ice cream, both ready to defend each other if it came to it. Partners. Just like the old times. Just like the times before Luhan had fallen into a coma because of something Jongdae had done. Ah, those times.

But then the door swung open and closed again, letting a few more customers pass through, and that was that. The time to dwell on the past was gone, and he busied himself with greeting the next customer and opening the ice cream display case to get them a scoop of sunset sorbet.

He felt the gun’s weight pressing into his lower back the entire time, and he smiled harder to compensate. He always carried a gun with him during police training, but it was always in its own protective cover, always licensed, and handled carefully. Jongdae didn’t know where this gun had come from, if it had been shot before, if it had killed someone before. But now his fingerprints were on it, and there was nothing else he could do.

Jongdae almost sagged against the display case when Sehun walked in hours later right on time for the day.

“Hey,” Sehun smiled, greeting him easily. Jongdae smiled in return and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Sehun before he could even get a word out.

“Are you alright?” Sehun said in a quieter voice, hands on the counter and leaning over, “You look tired.”

“Do I?” Jongdae said, the smile beginning to slip. He hadn’t slept well yesterday either, too. “Do you know what you look like? A+. The best.”

He was diverting the attention, he knew it, but he hated talking about what was wrong. He was good at this. Detecting. Deflecting.

“When’s your break?” Sehun asked, “Have you had one yet? You should sit down. Really.”

He reached out an arm as if to comfort Jongdae, but just let it fall limply to the counter at the last minute. Jongdae almost wished Sehun were brave enough to touch him. He was ready to touch Sehun.

“Yeri,” Sehun called out, “I’m taking Jongdae out. Can you watch the display and take over?”

“Of course, Sehun,” Yeri smiled, gliding up behind the bar, elbowing Jongdae with a knowing smile. He weakly returned one in response. “He was due for a break anyways.”

“Come on,” Sehun said, hands stretched out after a moment’s hesitation. Jongdae wanted to reach out and grab it, but he let Sehun guide him with a hand on his back outside to the benches.

“What’s up?” Sehun asked.

“Work,” Jongdae said. Luhan. Youngmin. That gun.

“I didn’t know the dessert industry could be that stressful,” Sehun said, glancing at him.

“You have no idea,” Jongdae said.

“The modeling industry is…hard, too,” Sehun said.

“I guess we’re both stuck with these jobs,” Jongdae said.

“They’re important jobs at least,” Sehun said, moving his hands on his lap. It was like he was strategically placing them, almost following a step-by-step guide on how to hold hands. Move your hand closer. Closer. Closer. Take the person’s hand or wait and hope the other person was braver.

Jongdae didn’t feel especially brave today, but he took Sehun’s hand for a different reason. Sehun looked at him in surprise before curling his fingers back around Jongdae’s hand as tightly as Jongdae held onto him.

“Hey,” Sehun said in a softer voice, causing Jongdae to look at him.

If only this was the right time for Sehun. For a second Jongdae considered starting this right here, right now. But he had Youngmin to catch, his life to throw carelessly on the line, and Luhan to avenge. So unless Sehun would say anything more, this was all they would be. He’d come back for Sehun after this was all over.

“The strawberry on your cheek is cute,” he said, “But it’s crooked again. Your boss needs to learn how to put on your stickers better.”

“Then fix it. Please,” Jongdae said, tilting his cheek towards Sehun, scooting even closer.

Sehun focused on staring at the sticker as his fingers ghosted over Jongdae’s skin. Jongdae who had no sticker to stare at just stared on and felt as if his breath had been taken away. In a good way of course. He admired the the way Sehun pressed his lips together as he focused, the gentleness in Sehun’s expression.

The sticker did not peel off easily today, and Sehun rubbed the skin around it after he was finished and smiled as he took his hand away.

“You know what will make you feel better?” he asked brightly.

Jongdae swallowed the urge to say he already felt better because Sehun was here.

“What?” Jongdae asked.

Sehun reached into his pocket, and Jongdae would have laughed until he cried if Sehun pulled a gun on him as a surprise present. But he only took out a slightly wrinkled envelope from his right chest pocket and handed it to him.

“Here,” Sehun said, shyly pressing an envelope into Jongdae’s hands, “You said you wanted to come, right? There’s a show this Friday night.”

Jongdae peeked into the envelope and found a black ticket with glittering silver writing on it.

“Wow…only about a hundred people in the whole world get into every show,” Jongdae said, closing it and looking at Sehun, “Thank you.”

“This is nothing,” Sehun shook his head, “It’s the least I can do since you have to deal with me making you put together ice cream flavors on the spot every day.”

“Well, you pay for it,” Jongdae said, “And besides…I like seeing you every day anyways.”

Sehun raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth, but only took a breath.

“There’s so many things I want to say,” Sehun said after finally exhaling, “But I don’t know if it’s the right time or the wrong time, and I don’t know if by the time I…”

He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of everything he wanted to say, sorted through and tried to find the right words to place in the right order.

“It’s okay,” Jongdae said, nudging Sehun with his elbow, “Take your time. I’m listening.”

His heart beat hard against his chest, and he outwardly tried to stay calm to reassure Sehun that it would be fine.

He waited as long as Sehun needed, and for a while, they just sat together in silence. Sehun focused on gathering his thoughts while Jongdae just gazed at him in silence, noticing the way the wind lifted up his bangs every now and then, noticing the way he focused so hard reflected on the clench of his jaw, noticing how he inhaled and held his breath a few seconds before exhaling slowly.

Finally, after a while, Sehun opened his mouth again, speaking in a quiet tone so Jongdae had to lean closer to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything.

“It takes a lot out of me,” Sehun said, looking straight ahead as he kept his hands folded together tightly and placed in his lap, “to be able to tell someone that I’m interested. But it seems we all run on different times. They’re always rushing forwards, and I’m taking my time preparing the words I want to say. By the time I finally think I’m ready and it’s time to tell them, it’s too late. I realize too late they’ve found someone else, that I’ve lost them because I’m too slow.”

Sehun dropped his gaze to the ground and slumped his shoulders.

“It’s hard, you know? This game of do they know? Do I know? Will they stay long enough for me to want to see an us? Will they stay long enough for me to even open my mouth and speak?” Sehun said, letting out a sigh.

“I think all those people before didn’t deserve you,” Jongdae said, easily swinging an arm over Sehun’s shoulder to comfort him, “They may have been rushing forwards, but they should’ve at least been patient for you. They should’ve seen in you the most beautiful, the sweetest, the most amazing person they had the privilege of knowing, and waited. They should’ve got on their knees and waited for however long it would’ve taken. It was their loss for not saying something themselves or not waiting long enough.”

“What if it’s all my fault?” Sehun suddenly said, shooting up straight to look at Jongdae, “What if I made them wait too long? What if they didn’t even have any interest in the first place?”

“So what?” Jongdae said, “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But there’s going to be a person out there for you that’ll wait however long it takes until you’re ready to say something. Someone who’s willing to slow down and pass the time at the same speed as you. Someone whose heart will beat to the same rhythm as you. And when you meet that person, you will forget that the past ever happened.”

Sehun stared at him a moment longer, his mouth opening and closing again and again and again. His lips trembled, and Jongdae just smiled. It was all right. They had time.

“Can I stay with you?” Jongdae said, motioning at the bench, “If you don’t have anything else to do of course…Yeri was supposed to grab me after my break was over, but I think she’s forgotten about me.”

“Yes,” Sehun said with a small smile, “Stay as long as you can.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

On Friday, Jongdae wore his best button-up shirt, a pair of dark slacks, and his favorite shoes to Sehun’s fashion show. Yeri had teased him after he ended his shift early to make it in time, but Jongdae just stuck his tongue out at her and left. He was relaxed, prepared for an easy, peaceful night supporting Sehun at work.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place,” the bouncer said after taking one look at him. Jongdae folded his arms together and glanced at the people around. No wonder he had been asked. Everyone attending was dressed in completely monotone, minimalistic clothes. Black and white. Jongdae wouldn’t have been surprised if they wore several hundreds or even thousands of dollars worth of clothes and jewels on them.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, passing him the invitation Sehun gave him, “I was supposed to model here once before, but an unfortunate accident happened and I lost several inches of my height.”

“Several inches? Try ten,” the bouncer said with a huff after looking Jongdae up and down again. He peered at the invitation and held it up to the light as if trying to see if it was real or not.

“It was the biggest tragedy of the century,” Jongdae said, angling his face in a haughty way. One way or another, he’d get in. “This face was made to be seen by everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the bouncer said, ripping the ticket and giving him back the stub, “Try not to cause any trouble in there.”

Jongdae gave him another look and strode past him confidently, but once he entered, he immediately shoved his hands into his pockets and slumped his shoulders down. For a second he remembered a night spent lounging on a couch with Luhan. Their friend Yifan had modeled some of the new clothes he had bought, and while Jongdae was unable to do anything but laugh, Luhan had wasted no time ripping Yifan’s fashion choices with some choice words. What would he say now?

He was sure after five minutes of being here, Luhan would’ve sighed and asked to go home to cuddle with his cats. Jongdae smiled and lifted his head, finally looking around at last. That was Luhan, but he was here for Sehun.

The fashion show was held in the store, though the normal clothes racks had been either pushed to the side or stored away to make room for the sleek black catwalk that stretched out for half the room. White chairs surrounded the catwalk, but they were left half-empty for now, as most of the attendants mingled with each other, sipping on champagne.

Still, much of the clothes were kept behind locked polished display cases. Perhaps they were placed there for show.

“We will be starting in ten minutes,” someone announced over the speakers, “Please find your way to your seats now.”

Jongdae figured he could talk his way into a front row seat later, so he rushed backstage, hoping to catch Sehun before he had to go.

“You can’t be here?” a girl said, glancing at Jongdae while someone put on the final touches to her makeup.

“I’m here to see Sehun,” Jongdae said, looking into the hallway. Makeup artists and hair stylists fluttered around the models that began to line up, making sure everything was perfect.

“Sehun?” the girl said, her expression softening just a bit, “Check the first room to the right.”

Jongdae thanked her and walked near the walls to avoid the long line of models. Some of them stared, but didn’t say anything.

“Jongdae! Hey, what’s up,” Jongin said as soon as Jongdae passed by him. He reached out his hand, and Jongdae slapped it in greeting.

“Good luck,” Jongdae said with a smile, “Have you seen Sehun?”

“Ah,” Jongin smiled even brighter, “First dressing room. Tell him to come out, too. We’re starting soon.”

When Jongdae walked inside the room, he saw Sehun’s back first and took a moment to admire those broad shoulders. He saw Sehun’s reflection second and took another moment to remember to breathe. Sehun sat patiently in the chair with his back to Jongdae, sitting still to let the makeup artist put the finishing touches on his dark eyeliner. After a moment, Sehun finally noticed the staring, and his gaze flickered towards Jongdae’s reflection in the mirror.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, grinning at once, his features brightening as he spun around in his seat to see Jongdae. He looked him over once and stifled a giggle.

“What?” Jongdae asked, tilting his head and crossing his arms. He couldn’t help himself, and a smile easily spread across his lips.

“Come here,” Sehun said, beckoning Jongdae to come closer. He didn’t need to be told twice, and he walked over until he stood next to Sehun.

“Oh, I think I l—…” Sehun blurted out before covering his mouth with his hands. The makeup artist let out a sharp inhale and batted Sehun’s hands away, examining his skin for any smudge that needed to be fixed.

Jongdae didn’t say anything, wondering if tonight was the night for the answer.

“I think I love your outfit,” Sehun finished as a light pink dusted his cheeks, “Turn for me.”

Jongdae turned once for Sehun and let out a chuckle.

“I stand out from everyone here, don’t I,” Jongdae said, raising his arms out before dropping them to his sides.

“I must say this pink button up looks lovely on you. The converse are a nice touch,” Sehun grinned, tugging at Jongdae’s sleeve.

“Sehun, you look stunning,” Jongdae said, touching Sehun’s shoulder, quieting Sehun immediately, “Are you nervous?”

“I guess. You’re going to be there, right?” Sehun said, closing one eye to let the makeup artist dab a brush onto his eyelid but kept the other eye open to look at Jongdae.

“In the front row. I’ll elbow out some pretentious designer if I have to,” Jongdae promised.

Sehun laughed as someone opened the door, frantically announcing that it was time.

“Thank you for coming,” Sehun smiled. His fingers continued to play with Jongdae’s sleeve, and Jongdae wanted to snatch Sehun’s hand up and hold it instead.

“Good luck,” Jongdae smiled, “Dazzle everyone and show them who’s the hottest model alive.”

“Then I’ll point to you in the audience when I walk down,” Sehun joked, causing Jongdae to hide his burning face behind his hands as he peeked through his fingers and tried not to laugh.

“Sehun,” the person said, pushing Sehun up out of the chair, “It’s time to go.”

“Jongdae, I’m feeling brave tonight. Let’s do something after,” Sehun shouted as he was pushed further and further away, leaving the door, “You and me.”

“Done,” Jongdae called back, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

Sehun bless him a kiss, and Jongdae caught it, kept it.

Loved it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a different attendant said as she walked in the room, jolting Jongdae out of his thoughts. As she ushered him out to the hallway, Jongdae saw a woman fretting over everyone, giving everyone a last minute check. She hugged everyone as tightly as she could without smudging their makeup and wrinkling their clothes.

After he was fully pushed out of the back area and into the main hall, Jongdae scanned the front rows and noticed all seats were all taken. But as soon as he name dropped Jessica a couple of times, the people quickly moved. Her personal reputation was as esteemed as it seemed.

Soon, the fashion show started with a booming bass sounding to signal the start of the show. As the models walked out to the crowd one by one on the sleek runway, they showcased simple but elegant styles. Their clothes were always black or white, never any other color. Jongdae retrospectively realized there was probably a dress code written on the invitation, but pink was never a bad color to wear anyways.

Finally, Sehun walked out, and Jongdae forgot for a single moment that he was the one responsible for causing his friend’s coma, that he was the one responsible for letting a head of a criminal empire escape, that he was the one responsible for taking him down this next time. All he could see, all he could think and feel was Sehun, Sehun, _Sehun_. His heart beat in a syncopated fashion to the music, danced to the time of Sehun’s steps, and fell in sync with what he felt.

Sehun confidently strode down the runway, showing everyone what effortless beauty looked like. Jongdae was sure he could give Sehun a three-dollar t-shirt and he’d make it look like it cost three hundred dollars. He then remembered he had a voice, and even though it was probably not the right etiquette, he screamed Sehun’s name at the top of his lungs, clapped as loudly as he could, and cheered as enthusiastically as he could. After punching the air with his fist, he gave up calmly sitting, getting to his feet to continue to cheer Sehun on.

Sehun struggled to keep his expression completely neutral, but after he struck a suave pose at the end of the path before smoothly spinning on his heel and walking back, he winked at Jongdae and let the corners of his lips lift up slightly.

“That’s my model boy,” Jongdae said, sinking into his seat as the people around him told him to shut the fuck up in the politest way they could muster.

“He likes his ice cream weird. Surprise flavors. What a special guy,” Jongdae said, fondly smiling at the exit Sehun disappeared into.

He watched the rest of the fashion show, marveled at the different avant-garde outfits shown, and cheered the same loud way every time Sehun reappeared. At one point a security guard attempted to escort him out, but Jongdae refused.

“Have you _seen_ the way that Sehun…and the rest of them look?” Jongdae said, “I’m just trying to support them while they do their job. You’re the one standing up in front of everyone’s way.”

They had reluctantly let Jongdae stay, and Jongdae reluctantly promised to quiet down.

At the end of the show, the models returned on stage to take a final bow. All of them were beautiful, but Sehun? Easily the most beautiful.

“And now, Jessica,” someone announced.

The woman from before came out, beaming, and the models cheered and clapped as she made her way to the microphone at the center of the stage.

“Thank you,” Jessica said, smiling and bowing at the crowd, “Every month we come here with new styles, new trends, new clothes, and it should be hard to come up with new, exciting designs every time, but my family of models all inspire me. Special thanks to Soojung my sister and all those who have supported me. I’ll show you new things next month, so please stick around! Thank you for all your support.”

Who Jongdae assumed was Soojung stepped forwards to hand Jessica a bouquet of white roses. Photographers swarmed to the front of the stage, taking photo after photo of the group. Jongdae didn’t know how they could handle the continuous flashing, but soon enough, Jessica clapped her hands, signaling the models to begin to exit the stage even though the photographers never stopped taking pictures. Jongdae saw Sehun whisper something to Jongin before hopping off the stage.

“Sehun, you were amazing…absolutely stunning,” Jongdae said, wasting no time at all as Sehun approached him.

“Thank you, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled, “Did you like it? Did—”

“Sehun,” a girl called, “Work and then flirt.”

“I’ll be right there, Sungkyung,” Sehun called before turning back. Jongdae couldn’t remember the makeup artist applying any blush on Sehun’s cheeks, and yet his cheeks were tinged with the loveliest of pink. “Sorry, Jongdae. Usually after shows we have to help move ordered clothes. A lot of designers buy in bulk after the shows.”

“No problem,” Jongdae shrugged, “You always wait around for me at work, so now it’s my turn.”

“See you in a bit,” Sehun said, tapping Jongdae’s arm before rushing off.

Jongdae sat around in one of the empty seats, watching as the models wheeled in boxes and boxes of clothes. A large truck waited outside, and the boxes were gradually moved into the back of it. Interesting. The models all worked efficiently, wasting no time to take long breaks, and they chattered among themselves as they worked.

Jongdae turned away and looked at Jessica watching them near the entrance of the backstage. He had observed enough criminals to know when some things were wrong, and Jongdae was curious to see Jessica fidgeting the same way, watching the progress with the same darting gaze. Perhaps she was nervous if the normal population would like her new line.

Soon, she disappeared into the back, and Jongdae waited a few more seconds before following. He didn’t trust himself with many things anymore, driving one of those things, but he trusted his instincts on this.

He slowly followed her down the hallway, dimly lit now after the show, and he could begin to hear Jessica’s voice. He pressed his back to the wall and inched along, not knowing where she had went.

But then he heard a voice that made his blood boil and immediately dived behind the nearest column.

“Is that all?” the voice said.

Jongdae tried to slowly inhale, trying not to make a single sound. He knew that voice…the voice that haunted him, mocked him when he sat at Luhan’s hospital bed.

Youngmin.

“Of course not,” Jessica said, “We have the usual bulletproof jackets and sweaters, purses with a hidden gun machinations inside—”

Of course.

Of course Jessica was an arms dealer. Who wasn’t in this city and the surrounding areas anymore? Did Youngmin run everything? Did he ruin everything? Jongdae clenched his fist, and could feel his blood pressure rising. It would be so easy to arrest him right there…to just jump out and snap a pair of handcuffs onto his slimy wrists. But arrest him with what? He was only standing here.

Jongdae suddenly wished he brought his gun with him.

“This was cute in the beginning, Jessica, but my people want guns they can hold. Not little purses they carry around,” Youngmin said.

Jessica replied, and Jongdae didn’t miss the edge to her tone and the way her voice became steadily louder with every word. If he didn’t know better, she sounded threatened. Desperate. Almost.

“But it’s discreet. It’s so discreet the police haven’t been onto us,” Jessica said.

“My biggest arms source is more discreet, and they sell us real guns, real weapons. Your clothes are stylish. I give you that, but save it for the runway. We’re done here. Warn your team. I have no more use for you,” Youngmin said. After investigating him for long enough, Jongdae knew what that meant.

“No,” Jessica said loudly, her voice harshly echoing down the hallway, “Give us six months. I’ll be your top arms dealer then.”

Silence.

“You have three. I pray for your team’s sake that you’re right. Doesn’t your sister work here?” Youngmin said.

“You will have your guns, but if you come near my sister or anyone else I work with, you’ll have other problems to worry about. I protect my own,” Jessica firmly said.

Youngmin let out a chuckle.

“Then don’t fail them and give me what I want next time,” Youngmin said, his voice growing closer and closer.

Jongdae pressed himself closer to the column’s flat surface, hoping that he would be undetectable under the dim light. If Youngmin saw him now, it’d be over. Minseok had insisted that Youngmin wouldn’t dare show up this far away from the main city where he operated so he wouldn’t to worry about being recognized. For once, Minseok was wrong.

With a cold shiver, Jongdae suddenly realized this was the feeling he had missed. The thrill of the chase, the thrill of being so close to an arrest, the thrill of taking someone down. If only Luhan was here. It was scarier when he was alone, with no one else having his back. But that sensation was suddenly smothered and dimmed into a darker feeling.

He had underestimated what seeing and hearing Youngmin for the first time since the incident would do to him, and maybe he should have listened to Minseok. Maybe he should’ve waited before jumping into a new job. Maybe he should’ve used at least a week or two to heal, to face himself instead of facing danger again. But for Jongdae, escaping what had happened in the past by jumping forwards couldn’t be done especially if he stubbornly kept one foot in the future and one foot in that single past moment that changed everything.

After Jongdae was sure Jessica and Youngmin had walked far away, he stood up, punched the wall next to him, and leaned on it for a second. A frustrated yell was bubbling up inside of him, but like similar things, Jongdae gritted his teeth and repressed it.

He peeked out of the entrance, and Youngmin was nowhere to be seen. Jessica continued standing near the front door, her arms crossed together as her models continued shifting the boxes into a new truck.

Jongdae walked as casually as he could outside, and Jessica didn’t even notice him exit her store, too preoccupied with what she was doing. He watched as Sehun passed box after box to Jongin and other boys while Soojung and a few other girls caught them and organized them inside the truck.

Did Sehun know what he was really doing, really carrying?

Sehun noticed Jongdae staring and turned around to wave. Jongdae raised a hand to acknowledge him, but didn’t change his stony expression. Sehun stared a moment longer before going back to work, beginning to move the boxes faster and faster after seeing Jongdae

Jongdae stared at the boxes they carried, thinking of the guns pouring out on the streets, guns circulated around by Youngmin, guns used by Youngmin’s people. Who knew what type of damage would be done in the future? Jongdae took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, but failed.

“Jongdae?” Sehun asked, making Jongdae realize he had spaced out and that all the trucks had driven off. The other models headed inside to change, so it was only the two of them left alone outside. “Are you all right? Sorry I made you wait.”

“It’s nothing at all,” Jongdae said, waving Sehun off.

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asked, his hands hovering near Jongdae’s arm.

Jongdae had managed to trick the other people at the station that he was fine for so long after the incident, but if Sehun took one glance at him and asked him that question, Jongdae truly wondered what he must’ve looked like now.

“Let’s take a walk,” Jongdae said, holding onto the crook of Sehun’s arm firmly as he led him away.

“Okay,” Sehun said, staring a moment longer at Jongdae’s face before dropping the topic and walking side by side.

Cars rushed on the street next to them, but Jongdae only looked backwards, making sure they were far enough before leading Sehun behind the nearest corner.

“What’s up?” Sehun asked, “You really don’t look fine, Jongdae.”

Jongdae took a deep breath and stared at Sehun. The night lights illuminated him wonderfully, and Jongdae rationalized the decision he was about to make again and again and again. If Sehun were away from all of this, then Youngmin wouldn’t be able to even think of harming him. If Sehun were away from all of this, then he wouldn’t end up dead like so many others who crossed paths with Youngmin.

“Sehun, do you acknowledge what you help Jessica move around,” Jongdae said.

“I…Yeah. Clothes,” Sehun said.

Of course he wouldn’t admit to everything being concealed guns and bulletproof material.

Jongdae had a lot of rage in him right now, and he was about to make perhaps the most questionable decision, but this had to do.

“You’re under arrest,” Jongdae calmly said, staring at Sehun, arms out just in case he was ready to run.

What he expected was Sehun to look at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open. Maybe shock would be frozen on his face before betrayal bled into his features and reality sank in.

What he didn’t expect however, was for Sehun to furrow his eyebrows, scoff, and repeat the same exact thing.

“What the fuck?” Sehun said, “Then you’re under arrest, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment, Jongdae couldn’t say anything, couldn’t process anything, couldn’t hear anything at all even though the cars noisily sped past them. In that moment, two cars suddenly collided with a sickening smash, but Jongdae didn’t even notice, eyes only on Sehun as those words rang through his head.

“What?” Jongdae shouted at last, “I’m the police officer here. What are _you_ talking about?”

“Then where’s your badge?” Sehun asked, “I’m the real police. _You’re_ under arrest.”

Jongdae was still stunned even though this was the second time Sehun told him this, and Sehun easily took Jongdae off guard and pushed him to the wall, pinning his wrists behind his back.

“For what?” Jongdae asked, “I’m literally just standing here… _You’re_ the one that committed a crime.”

“Arms dealing,” Sehun said.

Jongdae almost choked.

“But that’s _you_ ,” Jongdae said.

“You can’t be working with the police, too,” Sehun firmly said, “That’s impossible. I thought I was the only undercover one.”

“Undercover? _I’m_ undercover,” Jongdae loudly protested as he easily twisted his hands out of Sehun’s grasp before turning Sehun around and pinning him to the wall.

“If you’re undercover, who are you investigating?” Jongdae asked, keeping his grasp firm, but still gentle enough that Sehun wouldn’t be in any actual pain.

“Jessica Jung. I’m gathering intel on her arms dealing in the hopes that it will lead to an arrest for Kim Youngmin,” Sehun insisted, remaining perfectly still.

Youngmin.

“Who’s your handler?” Jongdae asked, releasing Sehun from his grip, though was still wary in case he’d run or cause trouble.

Sehun brushed himself off and crossed his arms as he looked at Jongdae.

“Who’s _your_ handler?” Sehun asked, “Shouldn’t we have the same one?”

“Fine,” Jongdae said, “Let’s say his name at the same time.”

Jongdae waited a moment, opening his mouth before counting to three.

“Minseok,” they said at the same time.

Jongdae’s shoulders sagged, and he slapped a hand to his face. His instincts were all wrong, and now he had probably ruined something before it even began. He took a breath and looked up at Sehun, his head still slightly facing down. Sehun stared back, not a hint of judgment or resentment on his expression, but Jongdae looked away again.

“ _God_ ,” Jongdae groaned, “No wonder he didn’t seem surprised when I talked to him about you.”

“You talked to him about me?” Sehun asked. Jongdae peered out of his fingers and found Sehun staring at him with a softer expression.

“Oh,” Jongdae said, realizing his slip-up before quietly continuing to speak, “Yeah. The day you told me your name.”

And other days.

Days where he didn’t want to talk about Luhan and wanted to talk about something hopeful, something beautiful, something…Sehun.

“I talk to him about you, too,” Sehun smiled at last. There were many things Jongdae did on reflex like punching someone if they were a threat, checking behind him to make sure he was safe before taking Minseok's call, and keeping his finger safely away from a gun's trigger. And now, smiling when Sehun smiled. Laughing when Sehun laughed. Loving when Sehun loved.

“Sorry I tried to arrest you,” Jongdae sighed before lowering his voice as he admitted the rest, “I saw Youngmin earlier, and it set me off.”

“Sorry I tried to arrest you back,” Sehun said, “and I know…Usually he does business impersonally. I don’t know why he came this time.”

“He was about to cut Jessica off,” Jongdae said, remembering the conversation, “I guess he likes to tell people he’s done with them in person.”

Sehun sharply inhaled and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing she didn’t like that. She’s very protective of us. None of the rest of the models really know what’s going on…I think maybe only her sister may know a little,” Sehun shook his head, “I hope they don’t die.”

Jongdae realized he wished the same for everyone at the diner, too. Everyone might have been arms dealers, but they were kind to Jongdae, kind to each other. And it wasn’t like they had murdered anyone. Unlike Youngmin.

“By the way…if you know Minseok, then how come I don’t remember you?” Jongdae carefully asked, “I know all the police officers in our department.”

Sehun fell silent, shifting in place before he spoke.

“I’m just a sketch artist,” Sehun sheepishly said.

“No wonder your art is amazing,” Jongdae said, lightly touching Sehun’s arm, “But why are you here? You’re not trained, aren’t you?”

“I just…wanted to do something,” Sehun sighed before dropping his head and gaze to the ground as he continued speaking, “Something more than sketching. I wanted to be someone who helps…to be remembered as someone who was brave enough to risk so much and make the streets safer. Not someone who draws mug shots of maybes, of people who got away. People who always do undercover work come back the heroes, you know? But I forget that to be able to do this work, you have to be forgettable…almost anonymous. I wanted to do this to stop being forgettable, but I guess I am anyways since it’s almost been a year since I started this job.”

Jongdae stared for a moment before snapping into action, all the previous regret and anger melting off of him. There was only something sweeter, something less dark, more pink.

“That’s fucking nonsense. I’m working undercover now, right? Can you forget me? Could you ever forget me, Sehun?” Jongdae asked, raising gentle fingers to lift Sehun’s chin up. Sehun shyly raised his gaze to meet Jongdae’s eyes, and looked a moment longer before shaking his head.

“Never,” Sehun clearly said, “I could never.”

“So listen to me, Sehun,” Jongdae said as he moved closer to him, his hand dropping to fall on Sehun’s leather jacket that he used to pull Sehun closer to him. He stood on his tiptoes to be closer, but Sehun obliged and tilted his head downwards to close a bit of the distance. “You know what type of people do this kind of work? The brave. The ridiculously brave people who should have known better, should have played it safer, but still said _nah_. Fuck that, I’ll do this myself. That’s you. You’re the brave one. The bravest especially since you have no training. Wow.”

“Wow,” Jongdae said again, this time a little softer as he realized how close he was to Sehun now that his speech was over. Slowly he let go of his tight grasp on Sehun’s jacket, but neither moved away.

There was a time for everything, and while Jongdae wanted nothing more than to close the remaining distance, he didn’t want to act now, not when he wasn’t sure if Sehun was ready. Not when they were both involved in work that could get them killed at any moment. So he took a deep breath, moved his head back, and waited.

“You’re brave, too, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled and said so pleasantly Jongdae regretted his decision for a split second. “I’m sure you’re you’ve done this before. You’re the bravest.”

“This is actually my first time,” Jongdae admitted, stepping away completely at last. As he leaned against the wall, he missed the flash of disappointment on Sehun’s face. “I’m undertrained, too.”

“Well I guess we’re doing this together then,” Sehun said with a laugh, “There has to be enough training between the both of us.”

“Hey,” Jongdae said, “We never took that walk…If you’re not mad about getting falsely arrested, then…how about now?”

“Oh, no,” Sehun said with another laugh, waving his hands quickly to reassure Jongdae, “That was funny in retrospect. In the future if people ask, imagine the story we could tell them. You and I…We met while working undercover. Along the way, we tried to arrest each other, but in the end, we won. Together.”

“I really hope we win this time,” Jongdae said, “I let Youngmin go on accident last time. Someone got hurt because of it.”

“We’ll get him this time,” Sehun nodded before stretching his arm out. He hesitated for a moment before slowly resting his arm over Jongdae’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The two of them walked through the streets, breathing in the night air, their faces routinely illuminated by the streetlights and neon store lights they walked past. Jongdae liked how Sehun’s arm felt around his shoulder and began to wonder what it would feel like if he just leaned his head against Sehun’s chest now. He imagined everything would feel warm. Wonderful. Safe. Jongdae wanted—

“That’s a very pink scooter,” Sehun said, stopping in place, jolting Jongdae out of his thoughts.

Oh.

“That’s my ride,” Jongdae proudly said, leaving Sehun’s side to approach it, “Don’t you like how pink it is?”

“It’s lovely, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “It suits you.”

Suddenly he remembered the surprise present he had meant to give Sehun earlier but had forgotten under the circumstances. Undoing the ropes that held it in place, Jongdae picked it up before stepping back onto the pavement.

“I never got a chance to give this to you after…everything. Congratulations again on your show, Sehun. You were amazing,” Jongdae smiled, handing Sehun a bouquet of pink roses.

“Oh, _thank you_ , Jongdae,” Sehun said, accepting the roses and smiling the most beautiful smile Jongdae had ever seen.

Jongdae couldn’t help himself and let out a sigh as he watched Sehun bring the flowers closer to his face so he could smell them. He wanted this to be forever, but there were bigger problems the two of them had to fix. At least they could work on this together now.

“If you’ve been investigating Jessica,” Jongdae began to ask, his tone dropping to a more serious one, “have you found anything?”

“Of course I did,” Sehun said, keeping the flowers near his face. “But it’s been hard to link anything concrete back to Youngmin. Jessica’s careful…She doesn’t carry that many concealed weapons or bulletproof clothes around, and it’s never certain where all the shipments head after we load them up. Tonight was the first time we’ve seen Youngmin.”

“At least you know those guns exist…although in a different form,” Jongdae said, “I haven’t been able to find anything at the diner.”

“Are you sure?” Sehun asked, “Minseok says that ice cream shop is Youngmin’s biggest source. Have you seen anything at all?”

“Only heard,” Jongdae said, “There’s nothing at all. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

   

ϟ

 

 

This changed literally the next day.

The next day, like any other regular day at the diner, Jongdae scooped out countless orders of ice cream to all the usual customers. School kids tired after a long school day. Couples on dates. Sehun.

Sehun smiled the same, waited for Jongdae the same, and spoke to him the same. It seemed that attempting to arrest each other had not even dented what they had even by the tiniest amount. If anything, it gave them a reason to be closer. If they could so easily pin each other to the wall, then sitting closer until their bodies touched seemed like nothing.

At the end of the day, Sehun left him again, and Jongdae would have liked to go home early that day, but it was his turn to clean up. The older women were busy making ice cream in the kitchen, so it was just Jongdae alone after hours. The lights were dim, the space seeming eerie, only the red neon words in the back of the diner keeping the darkness from completely creeping into the diner.

Jongdae wiped down the countertops, polished the display glass, and soon began to sweep the floors. It was terrible, how many napkins he found under the tables.

Soon, he made his way to the back of the diner and took his time to rest, staring up at the neon lights. LOVE, LAUGHED LIFE. He then looked towards the door as the opening bells chimed to signal someone had walked in. That was odd. Usually customers understood that dark lights and an absence of other customers and employees meant that the store was closed. But what was even odder was the person who walked in, dressed in all black, frozen and staring at Jongdae as if they hadn’t expected anyone to be here.

And they were masked.

Not a good sign.

“Hey,” Jongdae called out, stopping his sweeping to stare at the figure, “Can I help you?”

The person looked once at Jongdae before leaping over the ice cream counter and flinging open the freezer, attempting to lift out a tub of ice cream before Jongdae could even move.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongdae called out as he sprinted over, “Not the _ice cream_.”

He pulled the person away from the freezer before they could successfully lift out a single container. Jongdae easily dodged the punches the person threw at him, landing his own hits before pushing him out of the bar and onto the nearest table. The person took a little extra time getting up, hurt by the damage Jongdae dealt, but Jongdae had realized that who he was supposed to be, an average minimum wage ice cream boy, should not have been this skilled at fighting.

If the other women happened to open the kitchen door and saw him fighting like this, then they would know Jongdae was not exactly who he said he was.

So Jongdae began making his fighting sloppy, allowing the person’s fist to graze his shoulder and started fighting like how any normal person would fight.

Unleashing a stream of rapid-pace swears, Jongdae picked up the broom from the floor and began whacking the person with it relentlessly until they crossed their arms over their body defensively and kicked him. Normally Jongdae would have powered through regardless of the blows if they weren’t too bad, but he was ice cream boy Jongdae, so he gave up and clutched his leg and pretended it hurt more than it really did.

This gave the person time to fight back, and soon, they picked up a chair and hoisted it over their head. Jongdae sighed as he stared at the chair dangling above him, wondering why the women had insisted on using heavy metal chairs. Not willing to be bludgeoned by the chair, Jongdae quickly rolled away as the person threw it down at him, a loud crash echoing across the diner.

“Jongdae?” Yeeun called out loud from the kitchen, “Is everything all right?”

At the sound of Yeeun’s voice, the person quickly pulled out a gun.

“Yeah,” Jongdae called back, “Just _great_.”

The person aimed and prepared to shoot, but Jongdae shoved his arm away. A shot rang out, though before any more damage could be done, Jongdae twisted the gun out of the person’s hands. The kitchen door swung open, and startled, the person immediately tried their best to escape. Jongdae reached out and grabbed the back of their jacket, the leather crinkling in his hands. While he tried his best to hold onto them, the person wriggled out of the jacket before pushing open the door, the welcome bells chiming in the distance as they disappeared.

“Oh,” Yeeun said as she peeked outside and just caught a glimpse of the figure running away.

“Oh,” she said, looking back at Jongdae, her eyes flicking above at the lights. One of the letters had been shot, so now the sign only read LOVE, LAUGHED LI E.

“Are you all right?” she asked. Jongdae nodded and sank into a booth tiredly.

“They tried to take a tub of ice cream,” Jongdae said, “I guess you were right. Everyone wants your ice cream.”

“Did they really?” Yeeun said with a smile, “But you stopped them.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, “It wasn’t hard. Those containers are hard to lift up fast…especially if you’re not wearing gloves”

“They shot at you,” Yeeun said, “Weren’t you scared?”

She looked at Jongdae with interest, glancing at his body as if trying to see if he had gotten scratched or hurt anywhere. Jongdae was sure bruises would appear later, but for now, he was completely fine.

“I was just doing my job. But don’t worry…they didn’t punch my face so I can still welcome people tomorrow with my unblemished face,” Jongdae said, placing a hand under his chin to put his features on display.

Yeeun laughed and opened the door of the kitchen.

“Wait right there, Jongdae. One second,” she said, disappearing as the door swung behind her.

In the meantime, Jongdae examined the jacket, running his fingers over the leather. It felt similar to Sehun’s but unlike Sehun’s jacket, this one didn’t have front pockets bursting with strawberry syrup packets. And unlike Sehun’s, the logo of Jessica’s brand was nowhere to be found.

Interesting.

The kitchen door soon opened, light escaping for a moment into the diner as the four women stepped out, but as soon as it shut, the previous darkness crept back.

“Can I ask a question,” Jongdae called out because he needed to know, and this seemed like an appropriate time to ask, “Ice cream isn’t the only thing you do here, right?”

The women looked at each other.

“We can trust him. Right?” Hyerim said, looking over at the other women.

“He did save our ice cream from being stolen, missed a possibly life threatening shot, and did all of that without a scratch to his beautiful face,” Sunmi said, lightly touching Jongdae’s chin as she looked around his face.

“Why don’t we give him probation like Yeri. At least he won’t be completely clueless then,” Yubin said, crossing her arms.

“A good idea,” Yeeun said, snapping her fingers before sweeping her arms out as she spoke the announcement clearly, “We’re arms dealers on the side.”

“Wow,” Jongdae said without missing a beat, “I really wouldn’t have guessed.”

He pretended to look in shock, guessing that he was successful because the women all burst into laughter as they saw his reaction.

“Accompany us. See how it’s done,” Sunmi said, “It’d be nice having you there.”

“That is, if you want. The door’s right there, Jongdae. You can go now, but if you stay, you’re here with us doing this,” Yeeun said, pointing at the front door of the diner beside them.

Jongdae stayed.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

The next time he was supposed to talk to Minseok, Jongdae didn’t waste time and cut to the topic he needed to discuss.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Sehun?” Jongdae asked, “Or that he was undercover, too?”

“There’s more important things we should be talking about,” Minseok evenly said, “Time is short.”

“I tried to arrest him, Minseok,” Jongdae said, “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“I see,” Minseok said before slowly speaking, “He wasn’t meant to be an undercover agent since he’s only a sketch artist. But he sneaked in, and was the only one that Jessica Jung hired after so many years of trying to send agents there.”

“She hires models,” Jongdae said, “I’m not surprised he’s the only one in our whole station that was hired. He’s the most beautiful after all.”

“…Anyways,” Minseok said, “Do you have anything actually important to report?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, “Sehun killed his fashion show this month.”

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Minseok said.

“Kidding,” Jongdae cheerfully said. He wasn’t.

“I hope you’ll be pleased to know that everything’s real,” Jongdae continued, “They’re arms dealers. I still don’t know how they’re hiding all the guns or where everything’s stored, but it’s legit.”

Jongdae looked behind him, leaning on his pink scooter to make sure no one had followed him.

“I told you. My information is always right,” Minseok said, “Stay close, stay safe, and see if you can get any connections to Youngmin.”

“Of course,” Jongdae said, “How’s Luhan today?”

“No change,” Minseok, “But Jongdae, it’s not your fa—”

“I’ve got to go,” Jongdae said, suddenly gripping his phone a little too tightly, “I don’t think we’ll be doing anything dangerous soon, especially at the time we usually talk, so I’ll be able to make the next call.”

“Alright,” Minseok said with a sigh, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Jongdae.”

Jongdae hung up before he could respond.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Recognize this jacket?” Jongdae asked during his break as he passed Sehun the leather jacket from yesterday. He could see Yeeun watching them from the windows, but this time they made sure to sit at a café across the street.

“No,” Sehun said, picking up the jacket and examining it, “There’s no brand on it. It could almost pass for one of ours though.”

“Someone came in wearing this and tried to steal some ice cream yesterday night,” Jongdae said, “I stopped him.”

“Are you all right?” Sehun asked, peering closely at Jongdae. He reached across the small circular table to gently touch the bottom of Jongdae’s chin and examine his face.

“He’s the one with bruises,” Jongdae said before quietly admitting, “He shot at me, but missed.”

“Oh my god,” Sehun said, letting his hand fall, looking at him with wide eyes, searching for any bruises and bullet holes even though Jongdae was fine.

“This is the job, Sehun,” Jongdae said, “I’m glad it seems you haven’t experienced anything like that before.”

“Jessica usually keeps everyone out of the side business,” Sehun said, “I don’t think she’d resort to asking anyone to help her, even if we’re really in trouble. She handles everything alone.”

“Youngmin’s planning something,” Jongdae said, “He doesn’t come out to play in person unless it’s big. Maybe he sent one of his men disguised as yours to make it seem like it was Jessica.”

“You think he’ll have Jessica killed soon?” Sehun said, taking a deep breath.

“I heard them talking…She wanted six months, but he gave her three,” Jongdae said. He watched Sehun’s expression crumple for a bit before it was his turn to reach over and grab Sehun’s shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly. “Hey. Don’t worry. We’ll get him before anyone has to die.”

“They warned me not to get close to anyone while on the job,” Sehun said with a sigh, “But it’s hard when you spend every day with these people, you work with them, you laugh with them. Jongin doesn’t even know what the boxes he helps ship after shows hold.”

“Then let’s go catch them together,” Jongdae promised again, “We’ll take Youngmin down before anyone else can blink.”

Sehun nodded silently and propped up his elbows on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hands before leaning forwards.

“Hey when this is all done,” Sehun said, “When everyone is arrested and we can come back to the police department, maybe I’ll transfer and train to be a real officer like you. We should be partners. We work well together.”

He looked at Jongdae, smiling as he waited for his reply.

“I’ve already got a partner,” Jongdae said. Sehun’s smile faltered, causing Jongdae to regret how he had worded his response.

“But you can be something else. If you want,” Jongdae offered, causing Sehun to look up again.

“Like what?” Sehun asked.

“Anything you want,” Jongdae nodded. He placed his elbows on the table and mirrored Sehun, placing his head in his hands and moving closer. It was dangerous, how close their faces were. “As long as we stay alive long enough doing this job of course.”

And Sehun who originally had been too nervous to talk to Jongdae without his hands trembling so easily responded with an answer that made Jongdae the one with a racing heartbeat.

“Oh, then I’ll be yours!” Sehun excitedly said, moving up off the table as he reached out to take Jongdae’s hand.

Jongdae was used to adrenaline rushes given the nature of his job. He had learned to ignore it, to focus on his job, the feeling of the gun in his hands, his target. But now, now with no danger around him, Jongdae was overwhelmed with his beating heart, and all he could do was stare. He noticed the wrinkles near Sehun’s eyes as he grinned, the flush that sprinkled across Sehun’s cheek, the warmth of his hand.

And he smiled.

“Only if you promise to stay alive while we finish this job. I mean it,” Jongdae insisted as he clasped Sehun’s hand tighter.

“I could be shot and laying on the floor in a puddle of my own blood, but if you wanted me to stay alive, I would,” Sehun said a little too excitedly, “I’d fight death myself, strangle him with my bare hands if I have to. But I think if I tell him he should let me spend a little more time, a little more life with someone as amazing as you, he’ll let me go. He’ll let me live. I’ll live for you, Jongdae.”

It suddenly felt hard to breathe, and Jongdae inhaled sharply, pushing images of Sehun laying bloody, beaten, broken away from his mind. This time, it was his fingers that trembled as he reached out with his other hand to touch Sehun’s face. He was so close now…He could lean in and act if he wanted. And he did want.

But he didn’t do anything except continue to look at Sehun, memorize every single detail of him so that if he described his face to a sketch artist, he’d be able to detail every single feature down to the last wrinkle, the exact shade of Sehun’s skin.

“Let’s just hope it never comes to that. Okay?” Jongdae said, not willing to look away, not now, not ever.

“It won’t,” Sehun cheerfully said, swinging their clasped hands together, “We’ll find a way to finish the job and arrest everyone without anyone having to hurt. I’ve got your back, so don’t die on me. Okay?”

And suddenly Jongdae remembered.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

On a night many, many weeks ago because what the fuck type of organized crime ring traded guns and drugs during the afternoon, Jongdae and Luhan crept through the darkness, hoping tonight would be the night Youngmin would finally be taken off the streets and thrown behind bars.

They had traced Youngmin’s deals for months, studied his every movement carefully, not acting until it was the right moment to minimize the chance of his escape. Tonight was the night to move in, to arrest him on charges of drug dealing, murder, and so many other crimes and pin him with everything so the lawyers he bribed wouldn’t be able to bail him out.

Minseok had led a team of officers to shut down the drug deals by the docks, and Luhan and Jongdae were supposed to bring Youngmin in. Youngmin was allegedly hiding out in a warehouse waiting for confirmation that the deal had been completed successfully. Most of his men went to the deals, so he was left minimally protected. Luhan and Jongdae honestly both thought they would be able to complete this arrest easily.

There were many nights spent like this, together with Luhan side by side with their hearts beating loud and clear, their pulses leaping into their throats, and their guns held tightly in their hands. The moon shone a path for them, and Luhan stepped forwards first like he always did, the light illuminating his expression as he turned back to make sure Jongdae was still there with him.

“Hey,” Luhan said, lowering his guard to clasp Jongdae’s shoulder, “You ready for this?”

“Of course,” Jongdae nodded, “Everyone back at the station will be bringing us coffee for a whole year after we make the arrest of the decade.”

“We’re so close to finally wrapping this up. Can you believe it?” Luhan laughed, and Jongdae finally lowered his gun safely and hugged Luhan with one arm. They were so _close_.

“I’m glad you’re my partner, partner,” Jongdae laughed as loudly as he dared, feeling Luhan hug him back tighter. He released Luhan from his grasp and the two of them advanced onwards until they reached an entrance of the warehouse. Luhan placed his hand on the doorknob as they both crouched, ready for whatever came next.

“One more thing,” Luhan whispered.

Jongdae looked at him, waiting for a command, a signal.

“Don’t die, hot stuff,” Luhan said, and Jongdae could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Right back at you, jackass” Jongdae grinned.

Soon they entered the warehouse silently, creeping around the perimeter of the dimly lit room. They each hid behind one pillar and peeked out into the expansive space. Sure enough, Youngmin was there across the room with just two men.

Now or never.

“Hey,” Jongdae whispered, pressing his back to the concrete pillar, gun tightly clasped in his hands. “I’ve got your back.”

“And I’ve got yours,” Luhan said, winking at Jongdae before he leaned back against the pillar and took a deep breath.

“On three,” Jongdae nodded, his pulse racing in his chest.

“ _Three_!” Luhan whispered, bursting out immediately because this was how he always was.

Bold. Brash. Brave.

The bravest.

 

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

Tonight, Jongdae stood on the opposite side of things.

Tonight, he stood not as a police officer ready to arrest everyone on the charges of illegal arms dealing, but rather as an accomplice to the very crimes he sought to stop. He didn’t want to think about how the guns he helped circulate would find their ways through the streets leading to more damage, to more deaths. But this was how it was, and Jongdae listened to Minseok and refrained from acting impulsively. He had to gain the women’s trust first, let a few deals happen without anything suspicious occurring, and find a way to absolutely link Youngmin to everything so they could secure an arrest.

Tonight, he stood in the back, near the ice cream truck. The older women had told him that he was their backup in case anything was to happen. Yeeun made sure to remind him he had a gun for a reason, and Sunmi patted his back and expressed her confidence in Jongdae’s shot. Perhaps they just assumed that he’d know what to do when people shot at them because saving lives, defending themselves, and surviving was second nature.

And as for the guns?

Jongdae shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn they were stored in the ice cream. After all, who would ever expect a few guns sealed in a plastic bag resting at the bottom of a full tub of ice cream?

So tonight, Jongdae helped lift out a few containers of surprise flavor ice cream and pass them to Yeri who passed them to the other waitresses that lined up in a chain outside the side doors of the truck. They continued passing containers to each other until Youngmin’s men accepted them at the front of the line and and piled the containers into the backs of their cars.

Jongdae was lucky to be working in just the back of the truck tonight, but it didn’t matter if he was in front. Youngmin didn’t like doing personal business and sent his associates to complete all his deals, so there was no chance Jongdae would be recognized here.

After nearly twenty containers had been passed on, Yubin ushered the younger girls inside the truck. But Jongdae was curious and stuck his head outside.

Yeeun stood in front of the truck, arms crossed, and waited as a man approached her. Jongdae, needing to see and hear more, hopped out of the truck, the gravel crunching under his shoes as he landed. Yubin attempted to push him back into the truck, but he stubbornly kept his ground. She sighed and relented, though stood in front of him and held an arm out to both shield him and prevent him from stepping any closer.

Jongdae watched from behind her as Yeeun stood tall, waiting as the man in front of her dialed a number on his phone and held the phone out to her. After the call connected, she spoke so clearly and authoritatively that even anyone from inside the truck could’ve heard her.

“It’s done,” Yeeun said, “We handed over what you needed. Are we good for now?”

“I must say, Yeeun,” Youngmin’s voice echoed from the phone, “You always manage to impress me with how many guns you can cram inside these cartons.”

The sound of Youngmin’s voice had Jongdae reminding himself to stay calm, to just stay calm. He wasn’t physically here, the coward. Jongdae wondered where he lurked tonight.

“You give us no choice,” Yeeun calmly said, “If you wanted—“

“Are you testing me?” Youngmin asked, his voice turning steely, “If you have a problem, then say it.”

“No, of course not,” Yeeun said, turning her face away from the men before her facial expression could shift, “I was just saying…If you need the guns, we’ll get them to you.”

“You may be my biggest source, but if you’re not careful, that could all change,” Youngmin said, “Jessica’s rising faster than you think.”

Perhaps she had taken the warning carefully after all.

“We’ve given you your guns, so I don’t know what else you could ask from us,” Yeeun said, “And Jessica doesn’t even belong in this field of—”

“More,” Youngmin evenly said, “It’s as simple as that. I want more. You’ll be compensated properly, but I need you to do better than this.”

“We’re already the best,” Yeeun said. Jongdae was impressed with how calm she seemed even now.

“You are now, but you cannot stay the best forever,” Youngmin said, “Next month triple the sources or we’ll have a problem. And you know what will happen if there’s a problem. My men tell me you’ve brought your whole family with you. Hello, Yubin. Hello, Hyerim. Hello, Sunmi. Have you been well? They tell me you’ve brought your newest employees…There’s two I haven’t met yet. A young girl and a man this time?”

Youngmin’s voice was as cold, as smooth as ever, and Jongdae watched quickly as the women around him shifted uncomfortably. Yubin dropped her arm to grip her gun, and Yeeun grabbed the shirt of the man in front of her to pull him closer.

She took a second to breathe, to calm herself before she then forced the man’s wrist downwards and raised the phone next to her face.

“We will get you what you want, but if you come near any of my people, you’ll be the one that has problems,” Yeeun said directly into the phone before hanging up.

“You shouldn’t have hung up,” the man said, smacking Yeeun’s shoulder with the back of his free hand.

Yeeun folded her arms together and kept her ground. The man loomed over her and stared back, but she seemed unfazed. At least on the outside.

“The conversation was over,” she said, “We’ll see you next time.”

Before the man could react, she turned and waved her hands around, signaling everyone to pack up and go. Yubin made sure Jongdae stepped back inside the truck before she closed the door and slipped into the driver’s seat. When Yeeun climbed in, she pointed at each of them and counted under her breath before she nodded and told Yubin to drive.

There was only silence as Yubin sped out of the meeting spot as fast as she could. The younger girls sat around with clasped hands, legs pressed against each other. But about five minutes later Sunmi connected her phone to the Bluetooth system and blasted a lively, upbeat pop song. Within seconds, the rest of the older women began singing along, smiles lifting up their faces as if they hadn’t just done something dangerous only moments ago. The rest of the girls looked on for a second before joining in, though Jongdae noticed their half-hearted smiles, their faltering notes, their hushed tones that never overpowered the older women’s volume. If anything, it seemed like they were singing along to the women’s voices rather than the music itself. Always following, never listening.

Only Yeri remained quiet, though she watched them from the very back of the truck next to Jongdae with her arms crossed.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asked.

Yeri shot him a look.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m not the new one here. Are _you_ okay?” Yeri asked.

“If your mother wasn’t sick, would you still be here?” Jongdae asked. Yeri turned away, but her refusal to answer was already an answer enough.

Yubin circled around the city, cutting through streets and taking odd turns. Perhaps she was worried the men would follow them. Surely they knew that they could be found easily at any time at their diner, but maybe it made them sleep better at night, doing this.

After they parked next to the diner, the younger girls scrambled out, wishing everyone a good night before they went home after a long day. Jongdae stood, staring at the red neon lights that were still on inside the diner. It was a shame they never opened during the night, which could have been peak hours for customers wanting a late night sugary sweet. But he supposed it couldn’t be helped, given the nature of their other nightly activities.

“Go home, Jongdae,” Sunmi said, squeezing Jongdae's shoulder, “You still have to be at work tomorrow morning.”

“Since I’m already here,” Jongdae found himself saying for some reason, “Can I restock now so I can come in a little later?”

He didn’t look at their expressions and heard nothing until Yeeun stepped beside him.

“Sure,” Yeeun said, pulling out the keys, “You’re an odd guy, but one of the best employees we’ve had.”

“At the diner or outside of this?” Jongdae said, following Yeeun inside the diner as she unlocked it. From the distance, Yubin, Hyerim, and Sunmi bid them good-bye.

“At the diner,” Yeeun said, “You’ve only started this a day in. We’ll see how far you go.”

Jongdae turned on just a single light once they stepped inside. It was dim enough so that there was more darkness than light, but he could still see enough to work. Yeeun took a seat around him and watched as he worked, placing new cups where they were supposed to go, cleaning the ice cream scoops that they didn’t get a chance to get to earlier in the day.

He glanced at her and opened his mouth because he wanted answers.

“Why do you do this?” Jongdae asked, “For the money?”

Yeeun let out a small laugh, quiet enough so Jongdae had to strain to hear it.

“Why these questions now? Do you want to leave?” Yeeun asked.

“I never said that,” Jongdae asked, “I was just curious.”

Yeeun hummed a melody Jongdae recognized. It was one of those bubblegum songs they blasted from the jukebox during his shifts, but she slowed down the tempo, making some of the notes more flat than on pitch. In the darkness, the song sounded hallow. Haunted.

“We made a mistake years ago, and now we’re living with it,” Yeeun said, “And in this field of work, there’s no second chance. To move forwards, you plunge yourselves deeper into everything all the time.”

She looked up at him, and the neon lights above cast a ghastly glow on her. The lights in the back had not yet been fixed, and tonight they still read out LOVE, LAUGHED LI E

“A mistake,” Jongdae said.

That sounded familiar.

“We live with what we’ve done, what’s been done to us,” Yeeun shrugged, “We protect those we love the only way we know, and that’s that.”

“You protect your own,” Jongdae said.

“Yes,” Yeeun said, “You could be one of us, Jongdae. We all take good care of each other if you want this life, too. I wouldn’t recommend it personally, but it pays well.”

“Then why do you make the younger girls visit the Tattooist?” Jongdae asked even though he still did not know what that meant, “I doubt it’s just a tattoo they have to get.”

Yeeun smiled.

“You’re perceptive,” Yeeun said, “and you keep asking so many questions. At this point, I really have to wonder, Jongdae. You’re the first person since Yeri who’s stuck with us this long. Why do you keep staying?”

“Is that so odd?” Jongdae said, “I can handle this job, and I like working here.”

“It’s just,” Yeeun said, observing him carefully. Jongdae busied himself and tried not to look up. “Everyone who’s here stays because they’re running away from something. What are you running away from?”

Jongdae kept his gaze down and his voice level.

“A mistake,” he said.

“Are you going to leave when you fix your mistake?” Yeeun asked.

“It can’t be fixed,” Jongdae said. Even if Youngmin were caught, if Luhan would never wake up, then he’d live with that for the rest of his life.

“Then you’ll fit right in. We’ve all done things we can’t take back. When you’re fully one of us, you’ll be no stranger to the feeling,” Yeeun said. She stood up and patted his shoulder.

“Here,” she said, handing him the keys, “I trust you enough to lock up. See you tomorrow.”

Jongdae took the keys and tossed them between his hands as Yeeun left, her pink hair dulled under the dark night.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Minseok,” Jongdae said the next time he picked up his call, “I’m in. Everything’s real just like you said.”

“How are they smuggling the guns out?” Minseok asked.

“They’re hiding them in the ice cream,” Jongdae said, “It’s…so ingenious. Who would suspect an ice cream truck?”

“Well who would suspect a high class elite fashion designer, too?” Minseok said, “Youngmin’s network is more expansive than we know.”

“I know that by now,” Jongdae said, turning around to make sure no one had followed him. But he was still on that same street he used to make his phone calls, leaning on his pink scooter. "So now what?"

“When you have more information, we’ll make a move,” Minseok said. “Think they’ll talk if we arrest them?” Minseok said.

“I don’t know,” Jongdae said, “If you offer them plea bargains, maybe. It sounded like they were stuck doing Youngmin’s work. He vaguely threatened them last time…That fucker really needs to go.”

“Even if he gets away again,” Minseok started to say before Jongdae cut him off with a hard _never_.

“If we can at least arrest these women, then so many guns will stop circulating around,” Minseok said.

“I don’t care if the women walk or not. All we need is Youngmin. He has to go in order to make this right,” Jongdae said.

“I was afraid you’d say this,” Minseok sighed, “He won’t be happy you’re risking yourself like this without him there.”

“I’m not alone,” Jongdae said, “But how is he?”

He clutched his phone, waiting for some good news.

He shook his head when there was none.

Even though it was long past closing hours at the diner, Jongdae headed back because tonight, another arms deal was taking place. This one was smaller scale, just more bullets then Berettas, more ammunition than assault rifles, but always the same risk.

Jongdae waited outside the truck a little early before the meeting time. Yeri was the only one in sight now and waved as he approached. They stood in silence, waiting for the others to show up, and Jongdae couldn’t help it as he opened his mouth.

“Why do you stay?” Jongdae asked, “If you know what they do, don’t you know what this means if you’re caught and arrested?”

“It’s for my—” Yeri began to say before Jongdae cut her off.

“Mother. I know,” Jongdae said, “But surely there must’ve been other ways. Why do this? Why them?”

Yeri fell silent, folding her arms as she leaned against the side of the truck. Without looking at Jongdae, she lowered her voice and responded.

“They take care of me,” Yeri said, “They send some extra food home with me when they know I’m too tired to cook for my brother. They give me advice when my mother’s not conscious enough to even listen to me. They know what my birthday is. My friends at school don’t.”

Jongdae was reminded again just how young Yeri was as he looked at her.

“Your mother does,” Jongdae said, “Would she want you doing this?”

“I don’t know, Jongdae, would yours want you doing this, too?” Yeri easily threw back.

“You’re in high school,” Jongdae insisted, “There’s more to life than just this, Yeri.”

“Take your own advice, Jongdae,” Yeri shrugged, “What are you doing here, too?”

Jongdae bit back the exact words and responded with a different truth.

“Me? I’m running away from a mistake,” Jongdae let out a chuckle.

Before Yeri could say anything, the rest of the women appeared, and on they went to drop the ammunition Youngmin requested. Like usual, Youngmin sent his men instead of himself, but this time, Jongdae was out in the front, passing the ice cream tubs directly to them. The men were rough, ripped the containers out of Jongdae’s grasp before he was even done handing it to them, and always told them to work faster and faster.

“Ice cream is heavy, my guy,” Jongdae nonchalantly said, “If you wanted us to work faster, you could’ve at least reversed your own car so we wouldn’t have to walk all the way to the trunk.”

“You’re the new one,” the man said, glaring at Jongdae, “What’s your name? Youngmin should know who he’s working with.”

Before Jongdae could make up a lie, Hyerim pushed past him with a laugh.

“That’s not for you to know,” Hyerim said as she shoved the next ice cream tub at the man’s chest, “He’s just our ice cream boy.”

The man grunted and lifted the ice cream tub without another word.

“Don’t tell them,” Hyerim softly said, patting Jongdae’s shoulders, “They don’t deserve to know. You’ll only regret it.”

True enough, the last time Youngmin had called, he had only named the four older women.

After all the containers had been loaded into the car, Jongdae expected Youngmin to call, but there was nothing. Perhaps this was too minor of a deal to expect anything.

“Youngmin expects more,” the same man said before they drove away.

Jongdae watched them leave before heading back to the truck. Yubin stood by the door and gently guided everyone inside, counting under her breath before hitting the side of the truck twice before climbing in last. Sunmi took that as her cue and began driving out.

“We’ll be all right this month, right?” Irene asked, climbing up near the driver’s seat to ask the older women.

“Yes,” Yeeun said, patting her shoulder, “Don’t worry.”

Satisfied, Irene headed back down to sit beside Wendy, but Jongdae didn’t miss the flash of doubt on Yeeun’s face.

 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae wasn’t really making any considerable progress towards Youngmin. Sure, he could testify as a witness against the women’s arms dealings since he participated himself, but the women kept their involvement with Youngmin to just a phone call. From the other times he sneaked around the diner to look, there was nothing. No papers, not even a trace of the guns. The women were careful, and Jongdae had nothing.

So perhaps comparing information with Sehun would be useful, and soon, they began to trade what they did know and didn’t know over ice cream during Jongdae’s long breaks. Jongdae could feel Yeeun watching from the window sometimes, so he supposed his long breaks were acceptable since she never called him in any earlier.

“My group’s getting pressured by Youngmin,” Jongdae said one day Sehun was enjoying a mix of chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, “At the last arms deal he said apparently Jessica’s really stepping up and threatening to at least break even with us.”

Sehun stopped eating, putting down his spoon as he frowned.

“Are you sure?” Sehun asked, “I’ve been listening in, and Jessica’s panicking. She makes all the things herself, so she has no idea where to get real guns.”

“She’s that good?” Jongdae asked.

“Not good enough for Youngmin,” Sehun said, “We’re doing nowhere near as well as you.”

“That’s…odd,” Jongdae said, “Then why would he say that.”

“He’s planning something,” Sehun said, “I just wish we’d know what.”

“I haven’t investigated Jessica yet,” Jongdae said, “Maybe I should sneak through your store. Maybe Jessica keeps physical or digital copies of her transactions and deals.”

“I’ve already looked, but I’ll come with you in case there’s anything new,” Sehun said, and when he saw Jongdae’s face, he quickly added, “Who will they more likely suspect if you’re caught? You by yourself or you with me, an actual employee of the whole place?”

Jongdae thought of all the things that could go wrong. Them being caught. Sehun getting shot. Sehun bleeding out. Sehun dying right next to him while Jongdae could do nothing.

“Alright,” Jongdae conceded, “But do you know how to defend yourself at least?”

“The only gun I’ve fired was a water gun,” Sehun said, kicking at the ground, “And I don’t like physical fights. Fights of any type, really.”

“…I can’t believe they let you stay in this job,” Jongdae said, “What if you were hurt? Threatened?”

“I was the only one that successfully joined her, remember?” Sehun said, “I wasn’t even supposed to try, but…I did. It doesn’t matter though. I’ve been told this is a pretty low-risk undercover assignment anyways.”

“Jessica works for Youngmin,” Jongdae said, preparing to fight whoever told Sehun that when he got back to the station, “There’s no way it was ever low-risk.”

“If you’ve been up against Youngmin before,” Sehun said, in a quieter voice, ”Just how dangerous was he really?”

“It was the toughest mission my partner and I had,” Jongdae said. A simple admission.

“Your partner,” Sehun said, “Where is he now?”

“In a hospital,” Jongdae said after a pause, “because of me.”

A terrible admission.

Before Sehun could say anything else, Jongdae continued speaking. Whenever Jongdae crossed paths with people who knew what had happened, he could always see the struggle, the flash of panic in their eyes when they wondered what to say when the only thing they ultimately told him was _I’m sorry._ Sorry for what? Jongdae was the sorry one. This was his burden, his mistake made.

“So the point is,” Jongdae said, keeping calm, “you need to know how to defend yourself in case you’re in a bad situation.”

“Can you teach me?” Sehun asked.

“Of course,” Jongdae nodded, “Are you free after my shift ends?”

“I’ll tell Jessica I’ll take the whole day off,” Sehun said, “I’ll wait around until your shift ends so we can go together.”

“You’d wait for me?” Jongdae said, “Are you sure? That’s a couple more hours, and—”

“Well, you’re waiting for me,” Sehun said with a small smile.

They were so close, so close to a _yes_ , but Jongdae was fine with being an _almost_ until Sehun was ready to say whatever he wanted to say.

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, touching Sehun’s arm, “Take your time. Whether or not it’s today or years from now, it’s you and me. Just like this or not. Whenever you want.”

Sehun opened his mouth, looked at Jongdae with such an expression that Jongdae thought it was finally time. But after a lengthy pause, Sehun sighed and shoved his hands in his pocket as he looked down.

“Don’t you ever wish you were braver?” Sehun asked.

“I’m not,” Jongdae said, thinking of the many times his hands had shook, his heart had nearly pounded its way out of his chest while on the job, “But I don’t have time to let fear slow me down. There’s so many things we have to do, and I’d rather spend my time doing things like this. Spending time with you.”

“Oh,” Sehun said. His face was still tilted downwards, but Jongdae could still see the smile on his face. “ _Oh_.”

“I’ll try to leave early, okay?” Jongdae asked, bending down and sticking his face out to meet Sehun’s gaze, “I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

Jongdae went back to work, though it was impossible to stay completely focused because every time he looked out the window, there Sehun was, sitting outside on the benches. He kept his head down, sketching something on a piece of paper. Jongdae was lucky no one said anything about his work ethic because he spent the rest of his shift staring out the window when no customers came and glancing whenever he had the chance. When he finally finished for the day, he swung his apron over his shoulder and headed out.

Sehun put away his sketchbook before Jongdae could catch a glimpse of what he was working on. The two of them walked in silence to Sehun’s motorcycle after exchanging smiles and greetings.

“Did your partner drive you when you were on patrol?” Sehun asked as he held out a helmet for Jongdae.

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, shoving it over his head, “I wouldn’t trust myself to drive anymore now.”

Sehun looked at him again before dropping the reply, getting on the motorcycle first. Jongdae hopped on, wrapping his arms around Sehun’s waist securely. As Sehun drove, Jongdae couldn’t help himself and slid his arms upwards, hugging Sehun tightly as he rested his head on Sehun’s back. Jongdae had at least wanted Sehun to be able to handle a gun, so they drove to a gun range forty-five minutes away to minimize the already small chance anyone would recognize them.

“Alright Sehun,” Jongdae said after they rented some handguns and protective gear. At this time of the night, they were the only customers.

“One of the most important things to keep in mind is counting your bullets,” Jongdae said, “If you don’t count or remember how many bullets you’ve used, you could run out easily and be unprepared when you try to shoot and end up with nothing.”

“Right,” Sehun said, “Count your bullets.” He stared at Jongdae’s face rather than the bullets Jongdae held out.

“Keep your finger off the trigger unless you’re going to shoot,” Jongdae said, holding up the gun and pointing at the trigger, “Accidents can happen, and if something startles you while your finger’s on the trigger, you might accidentally fire.”

“Maybe I’ll just…keep it off most of the time?” Sehun said, “I wouldn’t know when to start shooting unless someone…starts shooting at us.”

Jongdae paused. Maybe these tips were making Sehun think too much, so he spent time speaking less and showing Sehun the safety, how to load and reload a gun. Sehun was good at that and even learned how to assemble and reassemble a gun in a decent amount of time. But, as Jongdae soon found out, Sehun was terrible at shooting.

After both of them put on their earmuffs and Jongdae gave the signal, Sehun paused before firing a single shot at the target far away. Jongdae signaled at Sehun to put down his gun and his earmuffs as they checked his progress.

“You hesitated,” Jongdae said, “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

One moment of hesitation could mean he was too unwilling to shoot a gun, to harm someone. But on the other hand, it meant that he could’ve died in the second it took to think about shooting or not.

“The target threw me off,” Sehun admitted, and sure enough, he had missed the human-shaped target completely.

Sehun was too kind for this. Jongdae promised to himself that he’d do all the shooting if they were in such a situation that demanded it.

Jongdae signaled someone over to switch targets to a circular one for Sehun’s comfort.

“You know,” Jongdae said as they waited, “Out of the whole department, I have the best shot. Even my partner can’t compete with me.”

“Of course,” Sehun smiled, “You’re the best. What’s your partner’s name? Maybe I know him.”

“…Luhan,” Jongdae said, focusing on the target far away from them.

“Last and first name?” Sehun asked, “What type of a person goes by their full name?”

“A jackass,” Jongdae smiled despite himself, “That’s what I call him anyways.”

“What does he call you?” Sehun asked.

“Hot stuff,” Jongdae said, feeling his shoulders droop.

“Well he’s not wrong,” Sehun said. Jongdae could feel him staring.

“You’re too kind,” Jongdae elbowed him.

“It’s the truth,” Sehun said, elbowing him back.

The employee soon finished changing the target and gave them the clear to start shooting again.

“What was Luhan the best at?” Sehun asked.

“Driving,” Jongdae said, “He could swerve through lanes during high speed chases without even getting a single scratch on our car.”

“Is that why you won’t drive?” Sehun asked, “Because he drove you around?”

“No,” Jongdae said, and before Sehun could respond, he slipped on his earmuffs, signaled for Sehun to do the same, and demonstrated his own technique. Jongdae fired quickly, emptying his own round. When it was safe, he put down his gun, removed his earmuffs, and peered out as the target came towards them.

“Wow,” Sehun said, admiring Jongdae’s work. All bullets had been shot straight through the center.

“Is it bad this is what I’m good at?” Jongdae asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I don’t even hesitate.”

“That just means you trust yourself to control one of these things,” Sehun said, “Not everyone can be trusted with them, you know.”

“Maybe it’s the only thing I can trust myself with nowadays,” Jongdae admitted.

“What do you mean?” Sehun asked. He slowly took the gun away from Jongdae’s grasp and set it on the table beside them.

“I didn’t always used to drive a scooter, you know,’” Jongdae slowly said, “I made a mistake while driving once. Luhan paid the price for it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your—” Sehun began to say before Jongdae stopped. That was enough talk about the past.

“You try now,” Jongdae said. Briefly he remembered how Luhan and he would go to the shooting range to blow off some stress and shoot side by side, competing with each other to see who could shoot the closest to the center. Jongdae always won, but Luhan didn’t care. He always swore he’d beat him next time.

But no matter how hard Sehun concentrated, he couldn’t even shoot near the center. He made shots on the target this time, but if they were in a threatening situation, he would be lucky if he could even hit someone’s chest. After a while, he dropped his gun safely and took off his earmuffs.

“I don’t think this is my style,” Sehun admitted.

“No, and that’s fine,” Jongdae said, taking the gun, “How about hand to hand combat? I’ll teach you how to knock someone unconscious with one punch.”

He collected their guns while Sehun collected their earmuffs before they headed towards the front desk.

“Ouch,” Sehun winced, “Have you ever been knocked out like that before?”

“No,” Jongdae said, “Usually when it comes to it, I’m the one doing the knocking out. And Luhan, I guess.”

“There must never be a dull day at work for you then,” Sehun said.

“You should’ve seen us when we were first assigned traffic duty,” Jongdae said, placing their guns on the counter as the tired worker took them back and bid them good night with a yawn.

Five minutes later, the two of them stood in the almost vacant parking lot next to Sehun’s motorcycle. Jongdae bounced on his feet to keep out the chill and to get ready while Sehun watched him. Somehow, despite his height, Sehun looked small as he tilted his head and withdrew his hands into the sleeves of his leather jacket.

“Okay,” Jongdae said, crouching down slightly, “Copy me.”

Sehun stood in front of him, glanced at Jongdae’s legs, his body, and positioned himself similarly.

“Your left hand,” Jongdae said, moving it slightly out, almost a foot away from his face, “should come out here.”

Sehun copied him, leaving his right arm dangling by his side.

“If anything comes at you, this hand should try and stop it first,” Jongdae said, pushing invisible fists out of the way, “But if it fails, then your right hand should step in as the next thing to defend you.”

He then stretched his right hand out, keeping it closer to his chin.

Sehun looked at him once before moving his hand up. Jongdae stood up to slightly adjust the positions of Sehun’s hands and how tightly he clenched them.

“Where do I go from here?” Sehun asked, tilting his head to look at Jongdae. Jongdae guided Sehun’s fists, showing him how to quickly jab someone, how to defend himself, how to combine different punches together.

“Now you try,” Jongdae said, gesturing for Sehun to try.

“Can I see you do it in full speed first?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae nodded and stood in front of Sehun, though kept his body facing sideways. He then quickly jabbed the air, bouncing on his toes as he pretended to defend himself before swinging. It was easier to demonstrate when he could hit something, but he hoped he didn’t look like a fool. If Luhan were here he’d hold soft cushions for him to punch. He then turned to Sehun, wordlessly gesturing for him to try now.

Instead, Sehun raised his eyebrows and continued to stare.

“Luhan was right,” he said, “Hot stuff you are.”

Jongdae covered his face with his hands as he laughed, and even though the night was cold, he felt his cheeks burn.

“Come on,” Jongdae said with a smile, sinking back down in position again, “When I move my fist, block it.”

Jongdae slowly moved his fist forwards, and felt a rush of satisfaction when Sehun moved his left forearm to swipe it out of the way. Sehun learned quickly. After practicing defending with both hands slowly, Jongdae was about to suggest speeding up the practice before Sehun spoke with a quiet voice in such a tone that made Jongdae drop his hands to his sides.

“You’ve taught me how to protect most of my body, but how do you protect your heart?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae blinked.

“Wear a bulletproof vest,” Jongdae said.

“We can’t while we’re here,” Sehun said, “That’d be too obvious.”

He looked at Jongdae before letting out a long exhale and tilted his head downwards.

“I was talking metaphorically though. I’ve head enough of that type of pain,” Sehun said.

Jongdae worked in law enforcement, but he had no problems with going up to whoever had messed with Sehun’s heart in the past and landing a punch or two. Or ten.

“They didn’t deserve you,” Jongdae said, taking a step closer to touch Sehun’s arm, “whoever the fuck they are.”

“Thanks,” Sehun sighed, “Maybe I could’ve done better, but—”

“No,” Jongdae said, “I don’t know what happened, but they missed out.”

“I took too long to say anything,” Sehun said.

“The other person could’ve said something, too,” Jongdae said.

“Yeah,” Sehun said, finally looking up at Jongdae, “They can.”

“Well,” Jongdae said, taken off guard for a second, “if they didn’t say anything, then they could’ve at least waited for you to be brave enough to speak. It was their fault for not waiting long enough either.”

He then dropped to his knees, kneeling by Sehun’s feet.

“What are you doing?” Sehun asked, placing a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Your shoe was untied,” Jongdae said, fumbling in the dark to fix Sehun’s shoe.

“Oh, Jongdae,” Sehun said. Jongdae could hear the smile in his voice. “Come up here.”

Jongdae felt Sehun lift him up, and they stood again in silence, breathing in the cold air, eyes on only each other. There were many things Jongdae could say, but he said this instead.

“Hey,” Jongdae said, “Why don’t you try attacking now? Try and hit me.”

He raised his hands out, took a few steps back, and moved into a protective stance.

Sehun immediately straightened up and shook his head.

“Jongdae, I can’t hurt you,” Sehun said, not even crouching down. He put his hands on his hips and refused to even step closer. “I can’t even think of flicking your face let alone _punching_ it.”

“Okay then…just run towards me. Pretend you’re about to give me the biggest hug ever, and hug me so tightly you knock me over,” Jongdae said, beckoning Sehun forwards with two fingers.

“Oh, I can do that,” Sehun nodded, taking a deep breath before rushing towards Jongdae. Jongdae tried to stand his ground, but ended up laughing as he felt Sehun throw his arms around his waist and knock him to the floor. After using his arms to break his fall, Jongdae instinctively reached up to touch Sehun, to hold him back.

“How’d I do?” Sehun asked, still right on top of him. With a smile, he fixed Jongdae’s hair, brushing his bangs gently from his face.

Dazed, Jongdae looked up and saw stars. A star, really. Just one. He was sure that if he leaned in right now, he’d know what stardust and sunrises would taste like. But he didn’t. He just lay there, ignoring the seconds that passed by, focusing on this moment. Now.

“Absolutely perfect,” Jongdae breathed, “Now you can attack anyone unarmed with those hugs of yours.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt anybody,” Sehun admitted, finally sliding off of Jongdae before helping him up.

“What if they’re trying to hurt you?” Jongdae asked, brushing himself off.

“It’s not like you’d let them,” Sehun shrugged.

“You have too much trust in me,” Jongdae laughed, “All I’m good at is shooting guns and scooping ice cream.”

“It’s not misplaced trust,” Sehun smiled, “If you or anyone else…say from either your workplace or mine pointed a gun towards me, who do you think I’d trust to keep me safe?”

Jongdae didn’t answer immediately, just reached up to tousle Sehun’s hair and crinkle his nose.

“It won’t ever come to that,” Jongdae smiled, feeling warm. He wanted to move his hand, slide it through Sehun’s hair and to his cheek, but restrained himself. “You’re right. I’ll keep you alive.”

“I know how to fire a gun…not particularly aimed well, and now I can hug attack…just you. Can we investigate now together? I know how to get into my workplace at this hour. Jessica should really tighten her security.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, finally moving his hand away, “Let’s go.”

Soon, the two of them drove back to the city, back to the reality of things, and snuck through the back entrance of Jessica’s store. Sehun knew the place well enough to know where they could walk without being detected by the cameras. But to be safe, Jongdae put the feed on loop before they snuck around.

“Are you nervous?” Jongdae asked, pulling out a flashlight while they crept around in the darkness.

“Yes,” Sehun said, “But I’m still here, right? Still going on. You make me brave, Jongdae. Braver than I really am.”

Jongdae controlled himself because they were here on a job, choosing to shine the flashlight around the clothes in the store. Maybe some of them were bulletproof, maybe some weren’t. Maybe some of the bags had triggers, maybe not. He didn’t want to touch any just in case.

“Brave enough to do something?” Jongdae asked.

“One step at a time, Jongdae,” Sehun laughed.

The front part of the store had nothing, not even anything remotely suspicious in the racks and cash registers, so Sehun suggested checking Jessica’s office. It was eerie at night, some sparkling clothes and purses still encased in glass. Sehun worked here every day, but he was the one that only stepped as far as Jongdae stepped, never backwards, but never forwards alone. The mannequins had no eyes, no expressions, and Jongdae did not want to spend a second longer here than he had to.

“She wouldn’t just keep everything out in the open, right?” Jongdae said, staring at the lock on the glass display case closest to him.

“I honestly don’t know where she keeps them or where everything is,” Sehun said, “It’s too hard to realize which one is just clothes and which are…not.”

“Wouldn’t bulletproof clothing be heavier?” Jongdae asked.

“Jessica’s talented,” Sehun said, “if she didn’t want people to know they were wearing bulletproof clothing, then they’d never know. It’s a pity Youngmin didn’t agree. He could be walking around with the sleekest bulletproof suit if he let her design him one.”

Jongdae tensed at the mention of Youngmin’s name.

Sehun glanced at him and spoke louder.

“Don’t worry,” Sehun said, “We’ll get him.”

“He escaped once because of me,” Jongdae said, marching onwards as he shone a light on everything but found nothing, “If we don’t get him this time, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sehun said, “And I’ll tackle him if we get the chance. You can do the honors and cuff him.”

Jongdae smiled but didn’t say anything else.

Jessica’s office was empty, no clutter to be seen anywhere. There was only a desk on one side of the room, and a couch on the other. On the desk rested a framed picture of her and Soojung and another picture of her and her models. It must’ve been taken after a fashion show, as Jessica held a bouquet of white roses.

Inside one of the drawers was a thick stack of papers, and Jongdae flipped through them, scanning through the words, the pictures as fast as he could.

“That wasn’t there before,” Sehun said as Jongdae pulled out the papers that had caught his attention, “She’s growing careless. Maybe it’s the desperation.”

“Look,” Jongdae said, showing Sehun the papers, “They’re like…blueprints for the hidden guns. I think she’s trying to figure out how to build a gun from scratch.”

“That’s got to be enough evidence for her, right?” Sehun asked.

“It would be better if we had the real thing, but this is something,” Jongdae said, “Although it doesn’t mention Youngmin anywhere, so we’ll need to—”

But the door slowly began turning, and there was nowhere to hide. Sehun picked Jongdae up and placed him on top of the papers on the desk to hide them. Without hesitating, he then grabbed Jongdae’s face, kissing his cheek, just millimeters away from his lips.

“Oh…nice to see you two have finally gotten together,” a voice said.

Sehun lifted his head away from Jongdae, and the two of them turned to look at whoever it was.

Jongin.

Sehun breathed.

“I was wondering why the cameras were functioning oddly, but I guess it’s just you two doing…things. Jessica won’t like that you’ve brought outsiders here at this hour, even if it’s only Jongdae, so take it outside, okay?” Jongin said with a wide, knowing smile.

“Sorry,” Sehun said, grabbing Jongdae’s hand as he walked them outside as quickly as possible. This time he led, walking first, walking faster, leaving Jongdae to trail behind. Jongdae touched his lips even though Sehun didn’t kiss him there.

He wanted this time.

“If I’d have known that’s all it would have taken to get a kiss from you, I would’ve taken you along while investigating sooner,” Jongdae said. If Luhan were here he would’ve been proud.

“Jongdae,” was all Sehun could say. The darkness outside and the cold masked anything Jongdae could read on his face. “I didn’t want you to be in trouble or hurt if they found out.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because if I’m interested, I give back what I get,” Jongdae said, placing his hands on Sehun’s face and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Wait. I kissed you here,” Sehun said, gently lifting up Jongdae’s chin with a finger before tracing the skin right next to his lips.

“Another day,” Jongdae said, fighting to control his breathing, “When you’re ready.”

“Can’t wait,” Sehun said, a smile creeping into his words. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

He instantly covered his mouth as if he was surprised with himself.

“I…was going to visit a friend in the city,” Jongdae said, “Luhan.”

“Oh,” Sehun realized, “Do you want…me to come with you?”

If this was to go any further, then Sehun would have to see Jongdae for who he was, see Jongdae at his weakest. And Jongdae wanted this to go further, so he nodded.

“I’d love that,” he said before Sehun offered him a ride on his motorcycle since Jongdae still refused to drive him in his scooter.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae didn’t say anything as he held onto Sehun while they zoomed through the freeway the day after. Cars whirred past him, and Jongdae would’ve felt afraid, but he wasn’t the one driving. Honestly it was ridiculous that they had to travel an hour to get to the hospital since it was a whole city over, but such was the undercover life.

When they arrived, Sehun slid off of the motorcycle first before holding out a hand to Jongdae to steady him as he climbed off after.

“He’s on one of the highest floors,” Jongdae said, pointing at the top of the sky, “When he wakes up I’m sure it’ll go to his head.”

Jongdae could hear what Luhan would say even now.

_See, I’m at the top because I’m the most important, Jongdae._

Jongdae let out an amused scoff and led the way inside the hospital, trying to mask the same feelings he felt whenever he was here. Sehun looked at him extra long as if he knew what Jongdae hid, but he didn’t say anything, just followed as closely as he could.

When they arrived in front of the door, Jongdae put his hand on the doorknob as if this time he’d push it open, Luhan would be awake and sipping on a coffee.

But when he swung it open, nothing changed. Only silence and a still body greeted him. Jongdae stood at the doorway for a moment, closed his eyes to pretend before giving up as he walked into the room. He bent over Luhan’s bed and adjusted his blankets…not that they needed any adjusting since he never moved, but he felt better when he did.

“This is Luhan,” Jongdae said at last, “Luhan, this is Sehun. Be a dear and don’t tease him too much when you wake up.”

When.

“You hear that?” Jongdae said a little louder before sighing and sinking into his seat. Sehun placed a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Hello, Luhan,” Sehun said, gaze darting to Jongdae, searching for permission. Jongdae nodded, and Sehun slowly pulled a chair towards Luhan and sat by him.

“He’s my partner,” Jongdae said simply, “We went through the academy together, gave our first traffic tickets together, and solved our first case together.”

“I remember him,” Sehun said, studying Luhan carefully, “I think I saw him at the station a few times.”

“If you’ve seen him, then why haven’t I ever seen you?” Jongdae asked.

“I’m not a police officer, so I’m—” Sehun started to say before Jongdae cut him off.

“If you were about to say forgettable, forget it,” Jongdae said, scooting his chair closer to Sehun. He attempted to glare at him for even thinking of it, but he could never stay upset for long. Not when Sehun was this sweet, looked this sweet, this vulnerable.

Sehun smiled slightly at Jongdae before turning back to Luhan.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

Ah.

That question.

The only time Jongdae had even talked openly about what had happened was after he gave the police report after he woke up. Even then, all he could say was that he had shot at Youngmin too late, he had turned the car too late, and he had said sorry too late because Luhan was unconscious and could not hear him. And that was that. He refused to talk to the therapist head administration wanted him to see, refused to discuss Luhan with Minseok except for asking if he was okay, and refused to do anything but try and move forwards even though he was still so stuck in the past, stuck on that day Luhan was lost, stuck on that moment he turned that wheel.

Jongdae took a deep breath and met Sehun’s gaze.

Sehun was nothing like the others who had asked.

Most looked at him with pity, others with concern. A few looked at him in relief, like they could go home and sleep because hey at least they weren’t like that one guy who missed a shot and missed a turn and messed up so badly his partner was fucking unconscious. Jongdae hated all those looks, but he didn’t hate Sehun’s. Maybe it was impossible to ever hate a look Sehun sent him, but Sehun was different. He looked at Jongdae as if he’d wait forever for an answer if he had to. There was no sympathy, no relief, but just a gentle patience. Jongdae did not doubt that even if he took ten minutes or ten months or ten years to answer, Sehun would still sit here and wait so unwaveringly without ever rushing him along.

After all, Jongdae expected this from someone who had waited until it was too late.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear it from the station, but maybe you were already undercover by then,” Jongdae started and took a shaky breath.

“This is Luhan,” he repeated himself, nodding in Luhan’s direction. Sehun nodded back, letting Jongdae speak however he wanted.

“This is my fault,” he said as clearly as he could, staring straight at Luhan, waiting for him to agree. But Luhan only continued sleeping, continued to be unresponsive. Sehun didn’t nod this time, nor did any judgment flicker in his gaze, simply tilting his head and waiting for Jongdae to continue.

“You know the last case we worked together was Youngmin, right?” Jongdae said. Right now he didn’t know if he was talking to Sehun, to Luhan. Or himself. “We were so sure we were going to arrest him, that he’d be on the headlines of every newspaper after being taken down by us for all the crimes he committed. Arms dealing. Drug smuggling. Murder. So much more.”

“Minseok stopped most of his men, cracked down on all the warehouses they were hiding in, knocked on the doors of their homes to arrest them. He was preparing to push a last deal, and all Luhan and I had to do was arrest him. His location was traced to a warehouse by the river, and he was only with one of his men. We’ve been in bigger confrontations, so we didn’t think it would end like this,” Jongdae said. He was surprised he was still calm. He would’ve thought that by now there would’ve been tears, a sob or two, or rage. But there was nothing. Just a calm stillness.

There was no _and then what?_ Or even a _what happened next?_ from Sehun. Just silence. Just a soft gaze, a hint of an encouraging smile, and a hand that moved to rest on top of Jongdae’s clenched fists. A quiet screech of the chair as he moved closer to Jongdae until their knees touched.

Jongdae took his time, taking a break from Luhan to stare at Sehun. He had enough strength to go on, so he continued.

“Let’s just say it didn’t end like we wanted. These operations never do, but I’ve never felt so unprepared. All it took was one second for Luhan to fall down, shot through the arm. One second for him to scream at me to get him, to get Youngmin. And for a second, I could’ve gotten him. He was the one who shot Luhan, so I could’ve easily shot him back. I really could’ve…I could’ve…” Jongdae said, trailing off.

Sehun spoke at last.

“But you didn’t,” Sehun softly said.

“No, I didn’t,” Jongdae sighed. Sehun placed his other hand on top of Jongdae’s, now clasping both of them.

“I went after Luhan, caught him as he fell,” Jongdae said, “and after I dragged him behind a pillar, I finally shot Youngmin, but he was too far away by then. So I missed. I missed.”

“His life is more important,” Sehun said, “I understand you, Jongdae.”

“That gave him enough time to escape,” Jongdae said, continuing onwards as calmly as he could, “Luhan made me drive after him instead of towards the hospital. ‘It was only a small graze to the arm,’ he said. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said.”

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t fine.

“Youngmin’s network was wider and more extensive than any one of us back at the station knew or was prepared for,” Jongdae said, staring straight on at Sehun now. Sehun heard every word, listened carefully and did not look away.

“He must’ve called for backup because we were surrounded by cars threatening to slam us into the side of the road. I may have the better shot, but Luhan was the better driver,” Jongdae said, stopping a moment to remember all those times Luhan had turned on the sirens with a wild grin on his face before swerving in and out of the lanes while Jongdae held on for life.

“So you drove,” Sehun said, “Since Luhan was shot in the arm.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said. A simple admission.

What was next, however, wasn’t easy to say, but he said it anyways because it had been too long, and if he couldn’t tell Sehun, then he couldn’t tell anyone ever.

“His people were driving towards us,” Jongdae said, “Because since when was anything fair.”

A pause.

“To avoid hitting them, I made a sharp left turn. I really didn’t have time to think…I just remember pulling the wheel towards the left, and that was it. I was too late,” Jongdae said, surprised he had made it this far without stopping, “I woke up an hour later after that happened, but Luhan never did. To make things worse, all the witnesses that were supposed to testify against Youngmin changed their mind. A week later they were found dead, so now we had nothing. It cost Luhan so much, and in the end, Youngmin’s still free. This, all because of a missed shot, a faulty turn. This, all because of me.”

He had rehearsed that part so many times in his head to himself that it was normal to feel his shoulders collapse right on cue, his gaze drop down, looking anywhere but Luhan. But he had never said these words out loud before, never with another person, never especially with Sehun. So he was not used to anyone speaking after he finished, anyone filling the silence that he grieved in, anyone reaching into the darkness to pull him out.

“It’s not your fault Jongdae,” Sehun said, reaching forwards to touch Jongdae’s cheek, causing him to look up.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Jongdae admitted.

Sehun gently smoothed the Jongdae's skin, and it took Jongdae a second to realize he had brushed away a tear. He didn’t remember crying.

“But am I wrong?” Sehun asked, moving his hand away before finding Jongdae’s own hand to hold.

“But it w—” Jongdae began to say, his voice faltering before Sehun cut him off with a shake of his head.

“If you were about to disagree, then forget it,” Sehun said, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment, “Forget it, Jongdae. You spent how long thinking it’s your fault that Youngmin escaped, that Luhan’s like this. Would you have felt better if it was Luhan in your place? Would you have felt better if it was you laying on the bed unconscious? Near death? If Luhan was the one sitting by your side and feeling as wrongfully guilty as you?”

Jongdae glanced at Luhan before looking back at Sehun’s unwavering expression. He shook his head ever so slightly, but that was enough for Sehun. That was enough for Jongdae, too.

“You don’t get to decide what happens in life sometimes, you know. Sometimes we wake up and life throws us a surprise we’re completely unprepared for no matter what. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes bad, but always, it’s how you deal with everything that matters in the end,” Sehun firmly said.

“I ran away,” Jongdae said after letting a moment of silence pass, “That’s how I dealt with it.”

“No,” Sehun said, “Look where you are right now. You’re still here, aren’t you? Right next to Luhan?”

“It’s because I’m guilty,” Jongdae said. He was less sure of himself now.

“It’s because you care,” Sehun corrected him.

“If Luhan woke up right now, don’t you think he’d be upset?” Sehun asked, “I think so.”

“Why?” Jongdae said.

“Because you keep blaming yourself,” Sehun said, “for something beyond your control. If Luhan woke up right now, what do you think he’d say? Honestly and truly.”

Jongdae let out a smile despite himself.

_Oh my god fuck you for even thinking this was your fault._

_Can someone get this guy (me) a coffee…I haven’t had one in however the fuck long I’ve been asleep, and this caffeine withdrawal is the true killer now._

_I’m glad it wasn’t you, Jongdae._

“See?” Sehun said before turning to Luhan, “I’ll take good care of him. Don’t worry. I’d like to meet you properly when you wake up. When. You wake up.”

Luhan didn’t respond, but Sehun nodded anyways.

“You’re lucky you have Jongdae as a partner. I hope you don’t mind if I steal him from you,” Sehun said, a chuckle bubbling out of his chest and reverberating in his shaking shoulders.

Jongdae smiled as he watched them silently.

“Are you ready to go?” Sehun asked, turning back, smiling as he saw Jongdae.

Jongdae nodded, but still remained sitting.

“I’ll see you later,” Sehun said to Luhan as he stood up, “I’d like it if you were awake next time. Do it for Jongdae.”

He looked a moment longer at Luhan before turning towards Jongdae.

“Let’s go,” Sehun smiled, holding out a hand for Jongdae to take.

Sometimes the best thing for anyone stuck in the past was to let someone trusted take their hand and pull them to their first step forwards. But honestly, both Sehun and Jongdae lingered in the past, so at least they had each other, and at least they could hold each other’s hands and take the first step forwards like this. Together.

“Let’s go,” Jongdae smiled, taking Sehun’s hand and allowing him to pull him up. They walked together like they were not an undercover cop, not an undercover sketch artist, not two people chained to quiet regrets, but as two people walking towards a future, taking their time to reach whatever it was they wanted no matter how long it took.

Jongdae and Sehun.

Not now, not anywhere close to now, but maybe one day Jongdae would be able to drive Sehun in his scooter. He’d love to have Sehun’s arms around him while the city and sights around them became a passing blur.

And maybe another day when he was brave enough and completely forgave himself, Jongdae would be able to drive Sehun in his car.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae walked to work the next morning with a smile on his face, but that quickly changed as soon as he saw how the blinds were drawn and how everyone sat around with serious looks on their faces.

“Jongdae!” Yeeun said, spreading her arms out, “Just in time! We were having a group meeting about you.”

“Me?” Jongdae asked, staying in his place. He was close enough to the door so he could escape easily, but if they pulled out their guns now, he’d have to start shooting. With this many people against just him, his chances didn’t look good, especially with no cover around him.

“It’s early to be having such a conversation like this,” Yeeun said, “But don’t be afraid. We’re just talking about promoting you again.”

She motioned for Jongdae to step closer, so he walked deeper into the diner.

“Oh,” Jongdae forced out a laugh, “that’s kind of you.”

“You’re almost down to your last chance,” Yeeun said, “Walk away or face what’s ahead.”

Jongdae made no move to leave, though felt uncomfortable with all the staring and shifted in place. At least he was close enough to a table he could use as a shield in case things went bad.

“What are all of you running away from?” Jongdae suddenly asked, feeling brave, “Why are all of you here?”

The women exchanged looks for a moment before Sunmi spoke up.

“This is my family,” Sunmi smiled, swinging her arms around Hyerim and Yubin before pressing kisses to their cheeks, “I’d do anything for them.”

“I’d lie for them,” Hyerim said.

“I’d fight for them,” Yubin said.

“I’d kill for them,” Yeeun said. Jongdae hoped she meant that in a metaphorical way, but from glint in her eye, he was sure he was wrong.

Yeeun then looked around, as if urging the younger women to speak. Jongdae listened and learned that some ran away from bad relationships. Others from bad circumstances. It was too bad they all felt vulnerable enough to turn to this.

“And you, Yeri?” Yeeun said, patting Yeri’s shoulders, “What about you? Why are you really here?”

“I’m not running away from anything,” Yeri said, looking around at the others, “I’m here because I need to pay my family’s bills. They need me.”

“We need you, too,” Yeeun said, rubbing her back, “You’re just as important as any one of us here. If you’ll stay, of course.”

“I thought she’s already one of you,” Jongdae said, hoping he was wrong.

“Both of you still need to give us your final decision. We’ve given you all these chances to leave, we’ve shown you what we do, and now there’s this. Will you stay? Yes or no. Remember the road ahead will not be as pleasant or as kind should you choose to stay,” Yubin said. She took out her gun and laid it out on the table as a reminder.

“Yes,” Jongdae said without hesitation because this was his job. Yeri looked down at her clasped hands, uncomfortable with everyone’s attention.

“Yes,” she finally said without looking up.

“Excellent,” Yeeun said, clapping her hands together, “Jongdae, you’ll go first. We’ll throw a party for you in a few days. It’ll be fun.”

Suddenly, a customer pressed himself on the glass, peering inside.

“Hey, are you guys open or not?” he shouted through the glass, “I need a last minute ice cream cake. Do you have any?”

“Ah, our first customer,” Hyerim said, standing up, “Good meeting. Let’s get to work now. Expect the party soon, Jongdae. You’ll be able to see the Tattooist finally.”

She immediately went to roll up the blinds and turn on the lights. The younger waitresses began tying the shoelaces of their roller skates while Jongdae secured his apron around his waist.

“So you’re really staying,” Yeri said to him. She stood up too fast and almost flew forwards on her roller skates.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Jongdae asked, quickly catching her before she could fall, “You’re staying, too.”

“I’m staying for my—” Yeri began to say before the customer, let in by Sunmi, began panicking, shouting about the cake since apparently there was a birthday he forgot. Distracted, Yeri fell silent, but Jongdae knew anyways.

Her loved ones.

Jongdae was in an odd mood as he started his shift, unable to stop thinking about the promotion. What could be different? If he was already involved with the arms deals, then what else was left? He supposed he never actually got to handle the guns or package them in the containers before ice cream was poured on top. Maybe it was that.

All day, Jongdae was so preoccupied with trying to figure out a problem that had too many answers, too many ifs, too many maybes that he didn’t notice Sehun walk through the door until he spoke to him.

“Hey,” Sehun said, causing all the stress, the restlessness, the thoughts to fall instantly from his mind. There was only Sehun now, and with a smile, Jongdae felt the burden lift off his shoulders as he continued to greet him. It only took one word, one moment for Jongdae to feel that the world was fine.

Jongdae gave him just strawberry ice cream today, and Sehun accepted it with a smile and waited for Jongdae until it was his break time. Soon enough, they walked across the street together to sit at the café. Jongdae took a seat on one end of the circular table, and Sehun took the other.

“I have a lot of things to say today,” Sehun announced, pulling out a sketchpad and a pencil.

“Then speak. I’m listening,” Jongdae said.

Sehun looked at Jongdae once before nodding and shifting his attention to the paper, keeping it tilted upwards so Jongdae couldn’t see what he was doing. He picked up his pencil and began sketching something. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, only the sound of speeding cars on the street and the sound of Sehun’s pencil scratching at the paper filling the air. After a few more moments, Sehun finally spoke, keeping his eyes on the paper.

“When I was in college,” Sehun said in such a tone that made Jongdae lean forwards to listen harder, “There was someone I liked. Loved. He said some things, did some things that made me think that maybe we could be a _yes_ instead of an unsaid _almost_.”

“I don’t like him already,” Jongdae said, noticing how Sehun’s eyebrows were not furrowed in concentration, but tilted upwards. He didn’t like that emotion Sehun felt.

Sehun laughed, continuing sketching for a moment before he continued.

“Maybe it was my fault it didn’t work out, you know?” Sehun asked, his pencil moving rapidly over the paper, “We spent nearly two years like that…and all this time I was trying to be brave enough to say something. I think I was just scared that if I said something, what we had would change if it weren’t mutual. It’s easier to be an almost, but it hurts more.”

Sehun paused, flipping his pencil up side down to erase a tiny smudge before continuing. Jongdae wondered what he was drawing, tempted to lean over to look.

“If only I said something sooner,” Sehun sighed, “If only I acted earlier. If only I was braver.”

“What happened?” Jongdae asked.

“I promised myself I would finally say something,” Sehun said, scribbling harder onto the paper, “and I really was about to. I swear.”

He pressed his lips together and continued drawing for a few more minutes. Jongdae waited in silence, letting him take all the time he needed.

“Then,” Sehun said, slowly speaking again, shading in something carefully, “I see him walking across campus with someone else. They’re holding hands. So I think…no. It can’t be. Then he presses a kiss to their forehead, and I realize that’s when I lost.”

“It’s his loss,” Jongdae said, reaching out to place his hand on Sehun’s arm, all but leaning completely over the table.

“It was funny,” Sehun said after a deep breath, his expression relaxing, “Nothing changed at first. We were still the same, all smiles, all laughter. I think perhaps that was the oddest thing of all. If we were still the same, then did that mean it was me that did all the feeling? What would have changed if I said something? Or was he just too tired of waiting and moved on?”

He fell silent, the side of his mouth quirking up as he continued concentrating on his art.

“He didn’t deserve you,” Jongdae said, “Just because you didn’t say something didn’t mean he couldn’t say something, too. And if he really did feel nothing, then he shouldn’t have said all those things to you. Truly, Sehun. There was nothing wrong with you taking two years to finally want to say something. Everyone works on different times, on their own pace. But everyone would be on their knees waiting for you because you’re just that type of person.”

“Just like this,” Jongdae said, scraping his chair back as he got up and kneeled by Sehun’s feet. He looked up, found himself staring in quiet awe as he traced the outline of Sehun’s jaw with his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Sehun smiled, finally looking at Jongdae.

“Kneeling. Waiting,” Jongdae said before looking down, “Tying your shoelaces.”

Sehun looked at him for a moment longer before turning back to his art.

“You never have to kneel for me, Jongdae,” Sehun said. Jongdae securely tugged Sehun’s shoelaces one more time before returning to his seat.

“Me? Anytime for you,” Jongdae smiled, propping his elbow on top of the table before resting his cheek in his hand as he gazed at Sehun. Sehun seemed finished with his art, finally putting his pencil down.

“For a while,” Sehun said, still looking down, “I thought maybe I shouldn’t try again. Maybe the past was a warning that this never works out. It’s easier to protect yourself if you don’t say anything or try anything at all.”

“Did you meet someone else that changed your mind?” Jongdae asked. Maybe it was good Sehun wasn’t looking at him because Jongdae didn’t bother to control his expression, feeling the hearts in his eyes as he stared.

“No,” Sehun laughed, “I got over it by myself with time. Time’s both a blessing and a curse, you know? I wasn’t rushing into anything, though, and after college I just focused on this job.”

He then put his sketchpad down and turned it so the picture faced Jongdae. When Jongdae took a look at the image, he gasped, picking it up to examine it closer.

“And then I met you,” Sehun smiled, “The other guy…grew on me slowly. We were friends first. But when I walked into that ice cream shop and took one look at you, I knew that was it. You were it.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, looking away from the sketch, “This…is amazing. How did you do that without even looking?”

A sketch of Jongdae’s upper torso and his face was there, drawn by Sehun’s own hand, and Jongdae marveled at how quickly he had sketched him, how detailed it was, how real it looked.

“I’ve got you memorized,” Sehun said, tapping his head, “No one would need to describe you to me. All I’d have to do is pick up my pencil and draw those sharp cheekbones, those cutely curved lips of yours, those beautiful eyes…It’s you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae’s heart beat with realization, and he knew.

“Thank you for waiting, but I’m ready now,” Sehun nodded slowly. Jongdae was proud of how calm Sehun looked, how his hands were clasped without even a tremble, how Sehun looked out to meet Jongdae’s gaze, how he continued speaking so easily, freeing the words he wanted to say all this time at last. “I like you, Jongdae. Like at minimum. Another feeling beyond maximum. Every day you surprise me with how much more affection I can feel for you, and you make me brave. Brave enough to do this job even though we have no idea how this will end. Brave enough to face people pointing a thousand guns at us with nothing but a pencil to fight them with. Brave enough to feel okay if you don’t feel the same.”

Without stopping, Sehun sank back into his chair.

“Wow it felt good to say that,” Sehun smiled.

For a moment, Jongdae felt as if he could continue staring forever, his heart feeling fuller than ever. As another second passed, he felt as if he could leap up and let out an excited scream, yelling until he ran out of breath. Even when Jongdae took his time deciding what to do, what to say, Sehun didn’t seem worried, letting Jongdae take all the time he needed. Finally, Jongdae decided on standing up and walking over to Sehun. He dragged back Sehun’s chair so he had enough room before sitting on Sehun’s lap and swinging his legs over the other side of the chair.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said at last as Sehun slid his arms over his waist to hold him in place. His hands gripped the front of Sehun’s jacket to steady himself. The leather felt heavy, but soft under his fingers. “Yes.”

He paused to watch Sehun’s face brighten and a giggle burst out of his pink lips.

“To be honest, I wanted to wait longer,” Jongdae said, “Because we’re working with dangerous people and putting ourselves in dangerous situations, and it would be so much easier if we were out of here, working on our own time. Living as our real selves, not as an ice cream boy or a model...even though I’m sure you could still find work as a model because you’re absolutely _beautiful_. But…fuck that. I want as much time with you as possible, and if you have time, I want all your mornings, your afternoons, your evenings. I want you during the weekdays, the weeknights, and all the time you want to give me. Forever isn’t forever. It’s definite, and I want to know how long forever is when I spend it all with you.”

“Then that’s it then,” Sehun said, gazing so fondly that Jongdae felt as if his heart would burst, “You and me. Let’s go…wherever we end up in the future, I’m here with you.”

In this moment, Jongdae felt as if he could finish this job and arrest everyone, all so he and Sehun could go back to their real lives away from all of this. In this moment, he was already moving closer, leaning in, beginning to close his eyes, and –

“Come on, Jongdae,” he could hear Sunmi call from the distance, “Don’t forget tonight’s group activities!”

But it was a fleeting moment because as soon as he heard those voices call out for him, Jongdae sighed and realized they were still nowhere near catching Youngmin. He straightened and finally noticed the women congregated around the ice cream truck across the street. With regret, Jongdae looked back, already apologizing.

“Group activities?” Sehun asked.

“You know,” Jongdae winced, “I’d rather be here with you.”

“What we’re doing is a full time job,” Sehun smiled, “Go. I’ll always be here.”

“I’ll be back,” Jongdae promised, touching Sehun’s cheek with his hand. He looked at Sehun, trying so desperately to remember every single detail of this one moment.

Finally he left, but not without looking back again to capture the exact way Sehun looked as he stood up, waiting for Jongdae to return.

That night’s arms deal was the same. Jongdae helped unload the ice cream bins and transported them to the waiting men’s cars. Tonight, Youngmin’s main supervisor seemed more impatient than usual, as he shoved the younger girls occasionally to make them work faster. Before Jongdae could do anything, Yubin had already stepped up and told him to watch himself. The man made a face but kept to himself afterwards. Jongdae thought that would be all the trouble for the night, but this was before he saw Joy whispering frantically to Sunmi in the back.

“What’s wrong?” Jongdae whispered as he approached them. The man stared in their direction and pulled out his gun. Not a good sign.

“Joy accidentally gave them a regular ice cream container,” Sunmi said, “We’ll just have to tell them. If they open one and it has nothing, we’ll be in trouble.”

Joy hysterically apologized over and over again, but Sunmi gently shushed her.

“It’s fine. Stay here,” Sunmi said to Joy, “Stay in the truck.”

“But what about _you_ ,” Joy said, sounding near tears, “I’m so sorry I messed up…It was just a mistake...I should’ve looked better, and I really—”

“Shh,” Sunmi said, rubbing Joy’s back, “It’ll be fine. We’ll take care of it.”

Sunmi helped Joy into the truck before grabbing the younger waitresses and telling them to quickly head inside. They looked confused, but knew better than to question her.

“You, too, Jongdae. Get in,” Sunmi told him after Wendy climbed in.

“I didn’t make the mistake,” Jongdae said, “I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, you’re a brave one,” Sunmi smiled, “I’m glad we decided to accept you. Let’s go then.”

Jongdae shadowed Sunmi, watching as she walked up to the man without hesitation. She tapped his shoulder, looking up at him calmly.

“Hey,” she loudly said, “I need to check what we’ve already given you. There’s been a mistake. We accidentally gave you a regular ice cream container.”

“What?” the man bellowed, but Sunmi didn’t flinch, just frowned and wrinkled her nose as if she was disgusted with him.

“That’s unacceptable,” he said, raising a hand. Jongdae had seen such a move many times and blocked it before he could land a blow.

“Wow thanks Jongdae,” Sunmi said, unbothered by the situation.

“Did you just try to hit her?” Yubin asked, stepping into the conversation. She crossed her arms. “Did you _really_ just try to hit her?”

“Yeah,” the man said, “because she deserved it for messing up the deal. I could tell Youngmin this was purposeful sabotage.”

“If Youngmin only works with the best, the beautiful, the most skilled,” Jongdae said, unable to help himself, “then why the fuck are you here?”

The man’s eyes bulged, and his face began to grow a vivid shade of red even under the dim lighting as a chorus of laughter taunted him. He reached for his gun, and Jongdae could see everyone already reaching for their own before a voice saved them.

“It’s all good!” Hyerim called out, “I found the regular ice cream tub and I’m taking it back now. Let’s go.”

She walked to the truck, carrying a container with her. The man looked at her, looked at everyone that gathered around him, and Jongdae saw the exact moment he decided he had better things to do than to be beaten up by all these people. He put his gun away but still kept his clenched fists out.

“Watch yourself,” the man said, gesturing violently with a finger, “You won’t be the top dealers forever. I’d be worried that someone would take my place if I were you.”

The women looked unfazed, crossing their arms as they glared.

“We’ll worry about that day when it actually comes,” Yeeun said. If it was hard to restrain herself, she never showed it.

The man threw one last look at them before circling up his men and driving away. Only then, after their car was finally out of sight did the women sag and lean on each other. Sunmi drifted from friend to friend, clinging onto them, hugging them, holding them.

“As if we’d die so easily after all the work we did to survive this for so long,” Yubin laughed. She raised her arms, stretching in the air. Her shirt was too short, so a strip of her skin was exposed, revealing a flash of tattooed words. But before Jongdae could take a closer look, she had pulled her shirt down again.

“We’ll kill them,” Hyerim shrugged, “If they try to kill us, it’s the only thing we can do. It’s what we’ve been doing anyways.”

Jongdae froze, wondered if he heard her right, wondered if she had been joking or not.

“It’s easy to kill if the only other option is to die,” Yeeun said, swinging her arms around Sunmi’s and Yubin’s shoulders as they began to walk back.

Yeah. He definitely heard right.

“Jongdae, are you coming or not?” Yeeun said as she looked back, “It’s freezing. Come with us.”

It wasn’t like he had a choice, so Jongdae lingered a little longer before following.

“I’m going,” Jongdae said, shoving his hands in his pocket and cautiously walking forwards.

Later that night, Jongdae crawled into bed and focused on today’s memory with Sehun in the hopes that it would make him feel better and his heart fuller, would make him smile, would make him feel like nothing was wrong at all.

It worked. 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

During his time working as a police officer, Jongdae had seen many things. People begging him and Luhan not to hand them parking violations during their early days. Quite a few break-in cases. Assaults. And when he picked up the case, bodies left by Youngmin’s men.

None of it was easy to look at, and none of it was easy to drop even when Jongdae finally went home after late night shifts with nothing but the night sky accompanying him as he trudged home. It was so easy to get caught up in this job, the guilt that lingered even after cases were shelved away.

There were so many ifs. If only they could have saved this victim. If only the judge believed this other victim. If only they could’ve been faster, better, braver. If only their job could be easier. If only people could be kinder.

But Jongdae no longer had one big if, one hesitant almost in his life after yesterday, and it was incredible how Sehun so easily managed to chase away those thoughts. All Sehun had to do was exist, and Jongdae was already in love. All he had to do was smile, and Jongdae wouldn’t be able to remember what he was supposed to do or even any of the exact details of a murder case.

All he had to do was walk through the door like today, and Jongdae’s head would be filled with visions of sweet smiles, flushed cheeks, and pink lips, and everything would feel right. Jongdae could feel the tension, the worry melting off of his expression, a fond look, a sweet smile replacing it instead. Just like always, Sehun wore that dark leather jacket, left open to expose his stylish shirt underneath it. Like always, he looked beautiful. Like always, Jongdae could feel his heart bursting with affection.

“Excuse me?” the customer he currently served said, “I already paid. Please hand me my change.”

“Of course,” Jongdae said, finally handing the customer their change before turning to the next customer.

“Hello! How can I help you?” Jongdae grinned, though looked past the customer to keep his eyes on Sehun.

Sehun easily towered over the people in front of him and winked when he met Jongdae’s gaze. Jongdae missed what the next customer had said and asked them to repeat their order. He didn’t know how much more fondness he could feel, and as the line continued to shorten and Sehun stepped closer and closer, Jongdae was sure there was no limit, just an infinite amount of heart.

“Hey,” Jongdae said when it was finally Sehun’s turn, trying not to sound like he had just sweetly sighed even though he totally did.

“Hey,” Sehun said, easily smiling back. His smile was Jongdae’s favorite smile.

“What would you like?” Jongdae asked even though he already knew the answer, tossing the ice cream scoop between his hands.

“Surprise me,” Sehun said. Jongdae never knew if Sehun actually knew what was on their menu because he only ever looked at him.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, and for a second, his hand hovered over the handle of the display case. But this was too predictable now. There were only so many combinations of flavors Jongdae could mix, and he was sure by now Sehun had tried every single combination Jongdae could think of.

So with a smile, Jongdae kept the freezer closed and dropped the ice cream scoop in its proper bin.

“Come this way,” Jongdae said, “I’ll ring you up first to change things up a bit.”

He walked towards the cash register, only the display glass separating them as Sehun curiously followed.

Sehun began pulling out his wallet, but Jongdae stopped him by placing a hand over his arm.

“You’re sure about this, right?” Jongdae asked, causing Sehun to look up, his wallet forgotten, “You’re sure about us?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” Sehun said with a nod. He looked straight at Jongdae, his gaze steady, his hands dropping the wallet on the counter. “I’ve never been surer of anything else in my life, and I will tell you how much I adore you every day if it comes to it. I’m not scared of this anymore, Jongdae. You make me brave.”

Yesterday’s confession had Jongdae feeling full of love for hours and hours, and today’s had him wishing he could spend an eternity feeling like this, loving like this, living like this. With Sehun.

“Ask me what you ask every day,” Jongdae said at last. He had waited long enough for this moment. “Ask me again.”

“…Surprise me?” Sehun said, looking confusedly at Jongdae.

With that, Jongdae reached over, stood on his tiptoes to place a hand around the back of Sehun’s head, gently pushing him closer to him. And without any more hesitation or delay, Jongdae closed his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to Sehun’s lips and felt his heart not stammer to life, not beat rapidly, but just continue to beat like normal. So this was contentment. So this was peace. So this was what it was like, feeling so certain of who he wanted in his future as he felt all this love and refused to let it ever lessen or cease.

“Wow,” Sehun whispered as they finally broke apart. He reached out to touch the side of Jongdae’s face, “It’s too early to say some things, but just know I’m thinking and feeling them right now.”

“When you’re ready to say it, I’ll be right here,” Jongdae smiled. He was about to say more, but a loud voice interrupted them.

“ _Excuse me_ ,” the voice said, causing Jongdae to turn and look at an angry customer, “I’m pretty sure that violates at least five different public health standards.”

Jongdae froze, and Sehun let out a laugh. But Yeeun, who had been watching them just like anyone else, briskly walked forwards, placing a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.

“I’ll take care of this,” she sweetly said, “Why don’t you get yourself and him something on the house?”

She dragged her gaze from their flushed cheeks to their pink lips and smiled.

Five minutes later, the two of them sat next to each other on the bench outside, each holding strawberry ice cream cones.

“Can you believe,” Sehun said, licking his ice cream and pausing to savor the taste before continuing to speak, “we literally worked at the same station, but finally met while undercover trying to take down the same head of the biggest criminal organization. Well, I guess for the second time. I remember where we first met.”

“Oh?” Jongdae said, “Was it at the station?”

“I’m not telling you,” Sehun laughed, “You must remember it somewhere.”

“Sehun, I am _sure_ I would have never forgotten your face if we met earlier,” Jongdae said, “Are you sure it was me?”

“Yeah,” Sehun said, “It took me a while, but I figured it out. I don’t think any of us saw each other’s faces back then.”

“And you remembered me?” Jongdae asked, impressed with Sehun.

“You’re not forgettable, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “I heard stories of you all the time, but I never knew it was you…since Minseok’s control of the press is incredible.”

“All right,” Jongdae said, his mouth slightly cold from the ice cream, “I’ll remember you, Sehun. It’ll come to me. You’ll come to me.”

“Take your time,” Sehun said, scooting over to sit even closer to Jongdae, “That was in the past. We’re here right now.”

With that, he leaned over and kissed Jongdae again. Jongdae tasted a hint of Sehun’s ice cream on his lips and smiled. For once in a long time, he forgot what had happened before. For once in a long time, what only mattered were the fleeting present moments that happened a single time before becoming history. For once in the longest time, Jongdae felt the softest and kindest he had ever felt. Kind not only towards Sehun, but rather kind towards himself. If he could have more of these moments with Sehun by his side, then he was sure his past would become as bright and beautiful as his future.

But of course these moments could not last forever, and soon after time well spent laughing and talking, it became time for Sehun to leave. As he stood up, he lingered around, and Jongdae wanted to reach out and tell him to stay, to give him an extra few minutes, moments, and many more days. But they both had jobs to do, so Jongdae let him go, too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sehun smiled, unable to help himself as he pressed a kiss to Jongdae’s cheek.

“See you,” Jongdae smiled. 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

But Sehun didn’t show up the day after.

Jongdae didn’t think it was anything when he didn’t appear during his normal hours. The diner seemed emptier without him there, and Jongdae spent most of his shift thinking that maybe it was Sehun’s work. Or maybe his motorcycle broke down. Or maybe he was doing some secret mission for Minseok. Or maybe he was just sick. Then Jongdae had a horrible thought and focused all his energy into greeting the next customer to try and distract himself.

What if Jessica found out he was working undercover?

Jessica didn’t seem like the type to act violently…She took care of her own.

But betrayal was not taken lightly in criminal groups, and if Jessica didn’t have the heart to do so, then what if Youngmin had him?

When Jongdae didn’t have any customers to tend to, he paced back and forth, trying to busy himself by sweeping the floors, wiping down the tables, checking and rechecking the display case to make sure all the ice cream was still there. He had tried to enter the kitchen to try and clean whatever was there, but the others had insistently chased him out with a smile.

Jongdae couldn’t wait for Minseok’s call later that day, and the others had only let him quit his shift early after making him promise to not forget his party later tonight after hours. He tried his best not to sprint out of the shop and walked slowly to his scooter to wait for Minseok’s call. Right on cue, at 5PM, Minseok called, and Jongdae picked up on the first ring.

“Hello,” Minseok said, waiting for how Jongdae would respond. They had been lucky so far that Jongdae was never in enough danger that he couldn’t pick up.

“Sehun didn’t show up today,” Jongdae said, wasting no time at all, “Did you send him on a separate mission?”

Silence.

“He missed his call time today, too,” Minseok admitted.

Fuck.

“What if he’s hurt?” Jongdae asked, finally starting to panic, “What if he’s been taken or…Youngmin’s figured out who he is and—“

“Jongdae,” Minseok said, “Don’t worry. It’s just one missed call, one missed day. Maybe he’ll show up tomorrow.”

Maybe.

Jongdae didn’t want a maybe or an almost. He already had his _yes_ , and he wanted to know for sure how Sehun was doing. No questions. No doubt. Just an answer.

“Do you have anything to report?” Minseok asked.

“I…” Jongdae said, trailing off before he felt a brief surge of rage.

“He’s a _sketch artist_ , Minseok,” Jongdae harshly said into the phone, “I tried to teach him how to shoot, how to defend himself, but I don’t think it’s enough. Why did you let him go?”

“Jongdae, you’re here for one reason, and it’s not for Sehun,” Minseok said. Jongdae debated whether or not it would be worth it to start walking to find a wall to punch. He decided against it and simply rubbed his face with his hands. He’d save the punching for later, if Sehun really were in trouble.

“Everything’s the same,” Jongdae said, keeping his voice level as he reluctantly switched the subject. Minseok was right. This was his job, his priority whether he liked it or not. “They’ve let me into a few of their other deals, and Youngmin still hasn’t showed up in person. I only transport the ice cream containers. That’s all. I don’t know where they get the guns or when they actually place the guns into the ice cream. That information I think is just for the four older women.”

“Is there something going on today?” Minseok asked, “There wasn’t a fashion show today, but the last time I talked to Sehun, he said he was supposed to help the others start piling boxes of Jessica’s products for someone next week.”

“He didn’t mention anything,” Jongdae said, “But there’s a party for me…I think it’s tonight, Minseok. Apparently they think it’s time I become fully one of them.”

“A party,” Minseok mused, “Well…I trust that you’ll handle anything well, so just have fun. I’m sure you’ll hear from Sehun soon.”

“Have a nice night, Minseok,” Jongdae said. Today he didn’t ask about Luhan because he knew if there was news, Minseok would have already told him.

“I’m working later, but thank you,” Minseok said before disconnecting the call.

Jongdae sat on his scooter for a while longer, looking into the traffic. He watched as someone sped through a yellow light, another driver cut across lanes, and a new student driver nervously grip the wheels while passing slowly by. They did understand one mistake on the road would do more damage than they realized, right?

Jongdae called Sehun one last time before heading to the party. He held his breath, counting the rings, hoping that someone would pick up. But after the automated voice mail message sounded, Jongdae disconnected the call before he could hear the rest of it.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jongdae headed back to the ice cream shop. Once he entered, the room was strangely dark, save for the glowing neon lights in the back. Perhaps the others had a last minute meeting they didn’t tell him about. Perhaps he was just early. Or perhaps—

“ _Surprise_!” a chorus of voices chanted as the lights flipped on, startling Jongdae.

As the bright lights flooded the room, the women popped out of various hiding spots, throwing pink confetti in the air. Jongdae must have still looked upset, unguarded, as they froze for a moment, odd expressions replacing their smiles. Jongdae took that as his cue to gasp, throwing his hands over his mouth.

“For me?” he said, remembering to smile.

“For you,” they responded with giggles.

“Come,” Sunmi said, leading him deeper into the diner. The others followed, sliding into the circular booth in the back under the bright sign.

“Congratulations on making it this far, Jongdae,” Hyerim said, clapping her hands, “You’re almost one of us.”

“Almost? What else do I have to do?” Jongdae asked, carefully throwing a laugh in his sentence.

“Oh, nothing much,” Yeeun said, shrugging, “Just eat the ice cream cake we spent all day making for you first.”

“Oh,” Jongdae smiled, “So that’s why I wasn’t allowed inside the kitchen again? You’re so sweet.”

“Joy, please get the cake out of the freezer,” Yubin said, “Irene, please grab some plates and forks.”

Joy soon returned with the cake, setting it gently down on the center of the table. The cake was covered with a smooth pink frosting, and a sprinkle of gold glitter surrounded the borders. In the center written in strawberry syrup was a simple message.

 

CONGRATULATIONS, JONGDAE.

YOU’RE ALMOST THERE.

 

Jongdae supposed eating the cake would be the final step, so he relaxed and watched as the girls cheered while Hyerim stood up to cut the cake.

“The younger girls helped make the ice cream cake,” Hyerim said, scooping out a large slice and placing it on a plate before sliding it towards Jongdae, “It’s red velvet. The ice cream is our special strawberry ice cream of course.”

Jongdae’s smile faltered.

Sehun liked strawberry ice cream.

“Go on, Jongdae. Take a bite. How is it?” Seulgi asked.

Jongdae stared at the cake a moment longer, admiring the rich, red color of the cake and the nice contrast of the pale pink ice cream in the middle. He sliced a bit of the cake, making sure to scoop some of the ice cream as well before taking a bite.

“Oh!” he said, savoring the sweet taste, “It’s wonderful!”

“Well we aren’t the best dessert diner for nothing,” Yeeun said, nodding in approval.

“We’re the _only_ desert diner,” Hyerim laughed as she passed more slices around the table.

“To Jongdae,” Yeeun said, raising her fork in the air, “May he stay with us as long as he can.”

“To Jongdae,” the others responded.

Jongdae mimicked them, raising his fork in the air. Soon, everyone began eating, began laughing, and if Jongdae didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were just regular people. Friends eating together. Who would’ve ever known what type of work they did on the side? Maybe it could’ve been like this all the time had Youngmin not interfered with their lives.

“So…” Jongdae said after nothing but dark red crumbs were left of the cake and silence was left after the conversations died down. “I’m…one of you fully? Like everyone else?”

“Just you and Yeri are left,” Yubin said, “We’re letting her take a longer time since she’s the youngest. It’s such a shame she’ll know everything that happens when it’s her time.”

“Well, I can’t wait for this,” Yeri smiled. Her plate still had a good few bites left of the cake, and the remaining ice cream had melted unlike the others who finished everything.

“Should we let her see the last surprise?” Hyerim asked.

Last surprise?

“It’s more of a…test,” Yeeun said, “A test to the death.”

“Death?” Jongdae said, his senses becoming more alert. He still had his gun given to him. If it came to it, he could easily pull it out in time, but he wouldn’t be able to shoot more than perhaps two women. Three if he was lucky and they were slow.

“A choice. Take the test or not,” Yubin said.

“Die or die,” Hyerim said.

“That’s not much of a choice at all,” Jongdae said as he counted his exits and calculated his options.

“If you wanted to walk away, you’ve had more than enough chances to quit,” Yeeun said.

Jongdae stole glances around the room. No one seemed to hold any guns for now, so if they had to pull them out, then that would give Jongdae time to duck beside the table. And if he ducked beside the table, they would shoot at him, which would pierce through the windows and possibly harm potential civilians.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come here at all then,” Sunmi said.

“Since you don’t seem up to the test, how do you want to die? Getting shot? Stabbed? Blunt force trauma? Getting shot is easier and faster, but the cleanup is messy if we blow your brains out,” Hyerim said, making a gun with her fingers and pretending to shoot Jongdae.

“Now, now,” Yeeun said, waving off Hyerim, “Don’t scare him…I think we’re being too hard on him. We’ll only kill him if it comes to that, but I trust he’ll make the right decision.”

Around the table silently sat the younger waitresses. All of them sat with tight expressions and clenched fists, suddenly reminded of their own tests. But Yeri who had never heard of such a thing before watched with wide eyes. Jongdae remained outwardly calm for her, but he hoped that she would at least be scared enough to quit after this.

“What’s your test?” Jongdae resolutely said.

“The door is right there,” Yeeun said, pointing towards the front of the diner, “This is your last chance. Once you come with us, you die or take your test.”

“What’s your test?” Jongdae repeated.

Sunmi grabbed his hand and slid her fingers through his as they walked towards the kitchen. Yubin wasn’t so kind and clamped down on Jongdae’s wrist to prevent him from leaving.

“Girls, you should come to be reminded of your dedication to our group. Yeri, it would be good for you to see this to prepare yourself for your own test,” Hyerim called out.

The other waitresses mechanically stood up and walked towards them with pained expressions. But Yeri looked frightened, holding onto Joy for comfort as they trailed behind.

Yeeun pushed open the kitchen door, and Jongdae felt himself led into the dark room. Sunmi and Yubin released their grasp on his wrists and walked away, so he stood alone gazing at nothing before the lights came on and Jongdae saw.

His police training and experience stopped him from running immediately towards the center of the room, but he still couldn’t help it when he desperately called out that name.

“Sehun,” he all but screamed, his hands covering his mouth as he saw Sehun tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

“Jongdae,” Sehun called back, a shadow of something flickering in his eyes.

“Let him go. I’ll take whatever test you want,” Jongdae urged, meaning to move forwards before Yeeun raised an arm out to stop him.

“This is your test, Jongdae. Kill him or die in his place,” Hyerim said, “But it doesn’t matter. He’ll die anyways…If you die instead of making this choice, then we’ll just kill him after.”

“What?” Jongdae shouted, “This can’t be it? This _can’t_ be it.”

“We’ve all killed people to be here, Jongdae. Wendy killed her cousin. Seulgi killed her friend. Irene killed her fiancé. Joy killed her friend, too,” Sunmi said.

At the mention of all these actions, Yeri let go of Joy’s arm and hugged herself. She looked younger than she had looked all this time.

“It’s your turn to sacrifice something you care about so we know you can’t leave or betray us, and so we know you’re committed,” Yubin said, “It’s your turn to understand how hard survival is.”

“Isn’t there some other way?” Yeri blurted out, causing the older women to turn their heads to look at her, their expressions darkening.

“Everyone in this room has done this except you. It’s lucky Jongdae is going first so you won’t question us when you take this test yourself,” Yeeun calmly said, “Watch now so you’ll know what to do later. It’s too late for you to leave now that you’ve seen everything.”

“If you wanted another way, you could’ve left so long ago,” Hyerim said, eyeing Yeri’s frozen expression.

“Let’s give them a moment,” Sunmi said, glancing at everyone before leading the way up the stairs towards the second level where they could look down on the bottom floor.

“You’ve never shot this before…not even once. So put it to good use,” Yeeun said, shoving a new gun into his grasp before following the others.

Jongdae felt his hand go slack, the gun loosely hanging from his hand as he watched the rest of the women pull out guns of their own. So there really was no way out of this.

But that wasn’t his priority right now.

“Hey… _Hey_. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Jongdae asked as he rushed towards Sehun, his free hand reaching to cup Sehun’s cheek as he looked at him up and down for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine, Jongdae. I’m _fine_ , but what are we going to do?” Sehun asked, his eyes wide, unable to help glancing at the guns pointed at them from above.

“Let me think, let me think, let me think,” Jongdae said, looking around the room. Two exits on the ground floor. Both too far to reach before getting shot. At least he had one gun with an unknown amount of bullets.

“How many bullets are in here?” Jongdae called out.

“Five,” Yubin replied, “But you’ll only need one.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun choked out, causing Jongdae’s heart to plummet out of his chest. Jongdae hid the gun behind his back so Sehun wouldn’t have to be as alarmed.

“This can’t be it, right?” Sehun whispered, straining against his bonds, “We were supposed to win. Together.”

And because Sehun couldn’t hold Jongdae, Jongdae held him instead as he slipped onto Sehun’s lap. Sehun leaned forwards to press his head into Jongdae’s neck, and at this point, it was all Jongdae could do to keep his simmering rage from boiling over.

“Do you remember what you told me?” Jongdae whispered focusing only on Sehun. Revenge could come later. “That you’d fight death no matter what, that you’d strangle him with your bare hands if you had to?”

“Of course,” Sehun whispered back, his voice a bit muffled from Jongdae’s chest, “But I can’t really do that right now because my hands are a bit…restrained.”

“But remember that, Sehun,” Jongdae said, “I don’t know if both of us can walk out of here today, so just remember what you said. Curse at him. Tell him you should be able to have a little more time, a little more life. And because you’re the most beautiful, the most wonderful human, he’ll have no choice. He’ll let you go. So live, Sehun. Can you do that?”

“Only if you live, too,” Sehun said, inhaling sharply as he looked up at Jongdae with red-rimmed eyes. His voice did not waver, but he looked absolutely terrified. And Jongdae was livid. Absolutely livid that they had messed with Sehun. He could’ve been done with this job, done whatever other awful test they wanted, but they took _Sehun_. They pointed guns at _Sehun_. They wanted death to take _Sehun_. So at the end of the day, at the end of this job, Jongdae would not be satisfied until he saw each and every one of the older women in handcuffs and in the back of his cruiser.

“Jongdae, we need your answer,” Yeeun said, “What will you do?”

“Do you trust me?” Jongdae whispered as he slid his hand down Sehun’s neck to rest on top of Sehun’s heavy leather jacket, the metal of the buttons and the softness of the leather clashing against his fingertips.

“Jongdae. Your answer,” Hyerim called out again.

But Jongdae didn’t feel rushed, didn’t want to hear anything except this.

“I do,” Sehun nodded, struggling to hide how fast he was breathing now, “Get us out of here.”

With that, Jongdae breathed.

“I accept your test,” Jongdae calmly said, though he kept his eyes on Sehun.

“Jongdae, what if they kill you after this in the end?” Sehun said, his lower lip trembling. Jongdae was struck by how much even now, Sehun still worried for not even for his own self. “What if they don’t keep their promise? What if they were just planning to kill you all this time?”

“So what?” Jongdae said, reaching out to touch the side of Sehun’s face. He glanced at him carefully, eyes trailing over every wrinkle, every inch of his skin so if anyone asked, he could describe it all with his eyes closed. “So what if they do? All they can do is try, and if you think they could actually do anything to us, then you're wrong.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, taking a deep breath, “I trust you. I really do, so start trusting yourself, too.”

He leaned forwards to kiss Jongdae before pulling back and smiled, his lips shaking as he tried his best to stay calm. Jongdae couldn’t really remember walking away from Sehun, couldn’t remember when Sehun had seemed so small, couldn’t really remember anything else except how Sehun’s lips felt.

Sehun must have noticed Jongdae’s dazed expression because he called out another time. A last time.

“Hey Jongdae,” he shouted before lowering the tone of his voice and finding the energy to smile brighter, “Surprise me.”

So in this moment, Jongdae dared to smile, to grin back at him as he stood in front of his past, his present, his future with his shoulders back, chin up, eyes only on Sehun.

And with a steady arm and lips still buzzing from their kiss, Jongdae raised his gun into the air and shot Sehun’s chest five times.


	3. Chapter 3

There was only a deafening silence that followed after the last echoes of the gunshots and the sickening thump of Sehun falling and landing backwards from the force of the bullets died down. Jongdae blinked, realized what he had just done, and felt his heart stop. For a while he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to breathe, or at least he didn’t trust himself to breathe because if he were to do anything other than stare, he was sure he would have screamed and burst into tears right then and there.

“Congratulations,” Yeeun said, clapping slowly, the sound piercing the dead air, “You’re officially one of us. Welcome. See, Yeri? If Jongdae can do it, then you can, too.”

One of us.

Jongdae collapsed, fell to his knees, and felt his shoulders shake as he continued staring at Sehun. He suppressed the hysterical laugh he felt, and that night, Jongdae changed his mind. He didn’t want to see Youngmin arrested, awaiting trial, and locked up forever. He wanted him dead.

“What now?” Jongdae said, keeping his eyes on the way red oozed from Sehun’s jacket and pooled on the floor. “Is this it.”

“Visit the Tattooist. Ink the initials of the person who you killed to live, and then everything will be as it should,” Yeeun said.

“What will you do with him now?” Jongdae asked instead, staring at Sehun’s motionless body. Maybe if he stared hard enough, he could trick himself into pretending Sehun’s chest was rising. And falling. And that somewhere, somehow, he was still breathing.

Living.

“We’ll leave him to bleed out,” Hyerim answered, “There’s really no rush since he’s dead, but if you want, we’ll let you take his body back to Jessica. That should show her the consequence of thinking she could overtake us.”

“Wouldn’t she strike back? One of her people is dead,” Jongdae mechanically said. He was the only one left, so he would finish this job.

“Let her,” Yubin said, “All her concealed guns and armory are no match for our real guns.”

“Anyways, come now,” Yeeun said, walking down the stairs, her steps echoing as she walked down, “To the Tattooist you must go.”

Jongdae looked one last time at Sehun’s body before he let the women drag him to the ice cream truck. And as he sat in the back next to Yeri, he thought how surreal this all was as reality crashed on him. A team of killer women who sold guns disguised as ice cream drove him in their pink truck to get a tattoo after what he just did. Upbeat pop music blasted out of the speakers. Occasionally they even stopped to sell some ice cream when someone flagged them down.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Yeri said, shock still written over her face as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“What other options did I have?” Jongdae calmly said.

“You could’ve left. Not even come here in the first place. What did you expect after joining? Staying?” Yeri frantically whispered.

“I could ask you the same,” Jongdae said, “If you knew that, then you shouldn’t have come here, too. You’re just a high school student—”

“With a dying mother and a little brother to take care of,” Yeri hissed, “This paid our bills, Jongdae. That’s why I’m here. But I can’t understand you. You must’ve had a good life, an average life, but one accident made you run away? To _here_ of all places? Now a man is _dead_ oh my _god_.”

Yeri threw her hands over her face and rubbed her skin, trying her best to breathe. In the front, Yeeun and Sunmi loudly sang along to the songs, not hearing any of the hushed conversation in the back.

“They’re not going to let you go until you commit. Or not,” Jongdae said, “Now’s your chance to go.”

“I told you. I’m doing this for my—” Yeri said.

“Family. Yeah. I understand,” Jongdae said, “Just make sure that when they ask you to kill someone, it won’t be your own. I doubt it’d be your mother since they can’t drag a sick woman away from a hospital, but you better hope your brother lives far enough from here.”

Yeri said nothing and looked away.

Soon enough, they reached an unmarked building, and Yeeun checked her watch before turning around to smile at Jongdae.

“Thursday. 10PM. This is the only time to get it done nowadays,” Yeeun said before pointing outside, “Go up the stairs and into the first door on the right. You don’t have to knock. He expects all sorts of clients. Say the name of who you killed, and that’s all he’ll need.”

Jongdae ignored everyone’s stares and climbed out of the truck, the chill of the night air hitting him. He wrapped his arms around himself and headed up the stairs. Every other one creaked, and Jongdae held onto the wooden bannister just in case the floor would fall out under his feet.

After opening the first door on the right, there was nothing but pitch black. He closed the door behind him, expecting lights to turn on, but there was nothing. Soon enough, across the room, a small light suspended from the ceiling flickered on. He followed it, hoping that he wouldn’t bump into anything along the way.

Wading around the darkness, Jongdae kept his hands stretched out, afraid he would bump into something. Or someone.

After he reached the light, a moment later, a pair of gloved hands emerged and folded themselves under the hanging light. Like this, they looked like a pair of floating disembodied hands.

“Are you the Tattooist?” Jongdae asked, feeling around for a chair. After touching the back of one, he fumbled around and sat down.

The hands remained still, and the person behind them remained silent.

“Hello?” Jongdae asked after a while.

“Oh,” Jongdae said after nothing, “I’m supposed to say the person I killed, and then you’ll know, right?”

He opened his mouth, but after a while nothing sounded. It was so hard to say it out loud, what he had just done. Tears pricked his eyes, and he took a deep breath, clenching the edges of the seat. He focused long enough, and he swallowed the tears, hid the urge to scream, to cry. He had grown used to this after all.

“So,” a voice said, causing Jongdae to gasp, “You’ve really gotten into character while playing undercover haven’t you.”

Jongdae quickly reached towards the light, grabbed it even though the heat of the bulb hurt, and shined it around until it illuminated the figure behind the voice.

“You… _you_ ,” Jongdae loudly said as he gazed at the Tattooist. “You could’ve _told_ me about this, I…What the _fuck_.”

“Surprise,” Minseok said from his chair, “Didn’t you ever wonder where I got my inside information? Why we couldn't talk at some hours?”

Jongdae just stared. Really, after today, all he could do was hold the light and stare. There were no visible tattoos on Minseok’s skin Jongdae could see, as perhaps that would’ve been a little too much work for him to draw on every single time he went undercover. Was this what he was doing all this time? Letting out a long exhale, Jongdae let go of the lamp, sitting down as the light swung from side to side.

Minseok reached out to grab the light, steadying it before he disappeared from view again. But within moments, the light brightened enough so Minseok could be seen.

“Well,” Jongdae said, sinking back into his chair at last, “You could’ve at least _hinted_ that you moonlighted as a fucking underground tattooist for every single organized crime group here.”

“My clients tip well, believe it or not. A lot of them talk while getting tattoos. Some of them tell me what they mean, and a lot of the time it means they’ve been inducted into a new gang. Someone just died. Or someone was killed,” Minseok said. For the first time, he hesitated, waiting a second before continuing to speak. “Now…If you’re here, then…you’ve killed someone. Who?”

“I can’t say it,” Jongdae shook his head quickly and covered his face with his hands. His heart still pounded so fast for all the wrong reasons now.

“Who?” Minseok asked, “Someone who worked with Youngmin?”

Jongdae shook his head.

“Someone from the diner?” Minseok tried again.

Jongdae shook his head.

“You’re going to have to say it out loud,” Minseok said, “I can’t guess.”

Jongdae slowly sat up, removed his hands from his face.

“If I look like _this_ ,” Jongdae began to say, pointing at himself. His eyes were probably red-rimmed right now, his lips were trembling, and he thought he looked terrible. “Who do you think would make me like this?”

“No,” Minseok said, pressing a gloved hand over his mouth before he collected himself, “Jongdae, did you really?”

“I hope not,” Jongdae said.

“You did, or you didn’t,” Minseok said, “God…tell me so at the minimum I know what I have to do when you’re out of this.”

“I raised a gun and shot it five times at his chest. I shot Sehun, Minseok,” Jongdae said. Oh, he just fucked up everyone he cared about didn’t he. A car accident. A purposeful shot wound. Here he was hurting his loved ones more than he hurt criminals. Fuck, who even was he?

“God, Jongdae,” Minseok said, shaking his head, “Why couldn’t you just deal with your survivor’s guilt with like…fucking knitting classes or pottery like an average person.”

“If you told me you could draw, that you were a super elite underground tattooist, then maybe I would’ve been happy enough to sit in the corner of your office taking art lessons from you,” Jongdae said. It was easier to be like this, to fight the guilt, the pain with light-hearted statements rather than facing them head-on, feeling them heart-on.

“Sorry,” Minseok smiled apologetically, “It’s part of the job.”

“What do I do now?” Jongdae couldn’t help but ask, his heart weighing down so heavily in his chest, “Where do I go from here? If you have the names of everyone those women killed since you tattooed everything on their skin, then what else do we need to take them and Youngmin down?”

“We need something big,” Minseok said, “Something so big that’ll draw out Youngmin so we can strike and take him down. Can you orchestrate something like that?”

“Done,” Jongdae said, standing up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minseok asked, causing Jongdae to pause, “They’re going to need to see a tattoo on you, or they’ll know something is wrong.”

“Fuck,” Jongdae said, slowly sitting down again.

“How do you want his name tattooed on you? Where do you want it? Do you want it in basic font? Cursive? Bubble letters?” Minseok asked, pulling out his tattooing instruments.

Jongdae could practically hear Sehun’s voice marveling in awe.

_Oh, Jongdae, that’s so sweet you tattooed my name on your skin!_

Jongdae sighed and lifted up his sleeve, placing his left arm on the table.

“Give me his initials. OSH. Put it on my wrist,” Jongdae said.

As Minseok tattooed him, Jongdae lowered his head onto the table. The needles didn’t hurt as badly as Jongdae thought it would, but he still pressed his lips together so no sound tore out of his mouth. He still failed to stop his shoulders from shaking, and he was grateful that Minseok didn’t say anything, too focused on his work or at least too understanding to point out his hurt.

After he was done, Jongdae quickly tilted backwards so the darkness could mask his countenance.

“Jongdae,” Minseok said, his voice quieter, his expression softer, “We’ll talk about this later, but I just want you to know, it’ll be –”

“There’s no need for a talk,” Jongdae said, glad his voice was as even as he needed it to be. “I’m fine.”

“Hang in there,” Minseok tried again, “So stay alive, Jongdae. Don’t die. Luhan would kill everyone if he woke up to find you hurt. Or dead.”

“If,” Jongdae mused to himself, turning back and charging straight into the darkness. He looked back once at the light that seemed so far away now before leaving.

Jongdae tore down the stairs, his steps heavy on the creaky board, and this time, he didn’t care if the ground cracked under his feet and a hole would open and swallow him up. After charging straight at the truck, he forcefully tore open the side door, entered, and marched to the front.

“It’s done,” Jongdae said, raising his bandaged wrist.

“Wonderful,” Yeeun said, holding Jongdae’s arm as she examined it under the dim light, “It’s cute you got it done in the same area all the younger girls had theirs.”

“All except Yeri,” Jongdae said.

“Her time’s ticking,” Yubin said before driving them away.

Jongdae stumbled to the back, hugging his knees to his chest as he avoided everyone’s stares. Yeri pushed everyone to the front of the truck before she sat next to him. She stretched out a hand, hesitated, before she placed it on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“It’s not your f—” she started to say.

“Don’t say that,” Jongdae said with a quick shake of his head, “Please don’t.”

“Okay,” Yeri amended, seeming calmer than before, “At least you’re not the one with five bullet shots to the chest.”

“I would’ve taken it,” Jongdae said, “I would’ve taken it for him.”

“But you didn’t,” Yeri said.

“I didn’t,” Jongdae said, a lump forming in his throat. It hurt so badly to speak, to swallow, but Jongdae choked the words out of his mouth. “If the only choice was both of us dying or only he dies, then what were we supposed to do.”

“It’s not y…” Yeri started to say before she fell silent.

Everyone else in the front started singing again, but Yeri dropped her voice almost to a whisper. Jongdae had to lean in to hear her, but she stared ahead.

“My mother…before she became sick,” Yeri said, “she used to tell me that the past is the past. Leave it where it happened. You can’t live properly if you’re always thinking of what could have been done differently, what could have happened differently.”

“Or blaming yourself for mistakes,” Yeri finished. Jongdae knew she wasn’t talking about Sehun now.

“Yeeun says that you have to live with your mistakes,” Jongdae said, remembering the conversation they once had, “There’s no way to move forwards, so plunge yourself deeper into what you started.”

“Yeeun’s not all right,” Yeri said, “I don’t know what happened to you or your friend, but if I don’t blame myself for the way my mom lives, then why do you?”

“That’s different,” Jongdae said, “Now I’ve done two things. Now Sehun’s been shot. Can you excuse that?”

Yeri couldn’t reply, and for the rest of the car ride, the two of them sat in silence, the oncoming street lamps occasionally lighting up their exhausted expressions while the chorus of laughter and singing in the front of the truck accompanied their drive back.

When they were back at the diner, apparently Jongdae was still not free to go because the women led him inside again. Sunmi flipped on one light, only the neon one, but it was enough to keep the darkness away so they’d be able to see where they were going.

“Cleaning up is messy, but we have to sterilize our kitchen still,” Hyerim said, “We can’t be making our ice cream and stepping in blood can’t we?”

“We all help clean up here,” Yubin said, reaching behind the counter to pull out a box of gloves and passed them around, “Your mistake will be ours, too.”

Jongdae limply held the pair of gloves in his hand and braced himself as Yeeun opened the kitchen door.

Once he walked in, he collapsed on his knees, his hands falling to touch the floor to hold him up.

The whole kitchen was in disarray, machines overturned, plates and dishes broken. Red dripped from the walls, and Jongdae was sure it couldn’t have been strawberry syrup. But that’s not what sent him over the edge and sent everyone gasping, no.

The corner where they had last left Sehun was now empty, his body gone.

Gone.

With a trembling voice, Joy read out the message that splattered on the walls.

 

BLOOD FOR BLOOD

 

“You shouldn’t have killed someone from Jessica’s team,” Yeri spoke, louder now, more forceful now, more fearful now, “They’ll come for us.”

“They can try,” Yeeun said, staring at the message with her arms placed over her hips, “We’re the favored dealers. She’s just trying to survive. How did they find out about him so quickly? We only just took him after one of his shifts and made sure to avoid any cameras.”

Jongdae could barely register what they said. He had desperately wanted to see Sehun one more time, to press his head against his chest to listen for a heartbeat, to try and trick himself into thinking he was still there, to kneel by his side waiting for however long it took until he opened his eyes again. Sehun’s body being completely gone made it feel more real.

It was funny, thinking that for a second that things would better. Jongdae had thought that maybe once he wouldn’t mess up again this year. Maybe he should’ve picked a different job. But it was too late, all the damage was done, and at the end, Jongdae was left kneeling on the floor alone with the knowledge that he had hurt someone he cared about. Again.

He didn’t care who saw him right now, but he still lowered his head in his hands, covered his face from everyone’s view, and only exposed his shaking shoulders.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

One day, a day long before any of this mess, Jongdae had spent an afternoon on patrol sitting in a car with Luhan. The two of them were staking out a warehouse that they thought Youngmin’s head associate worked at. It was the first step towards an arrest warrant, but that didn’t mean it was any less boring, and Jongdae had jokingly suggested they should play one of Yifan’s mixtapes to pass the time by. Luhan had thrown him a look and stretched before letting out a sigh.

“Hey, Jongdae,” Luhan said, tapping a finger on the steering wheel even though they had been parked for hours, “This job fucking sucks more often than not, and it’s easy to keep dwelling on the things we’ve seen and had to do after we finish our shifts.”

“It never really leaves us doesn’t it,” Jongdae admitted, toying with the strap of his seatbelt.

“Yeah,” Luhan shook his head, “So you know what you should do? Find someone who loves you. Who takes care of you. Someone you can go home to after you finish being Jongdae the cop.”

“And what do I do when I find them?” Jongdae asked, wondering why Luhan was talking about this now. “It’s not easy to date people like us.”

“If they love you, they’ll stick around, get on their knees, and wait until you tell them yes or no. Please say yes to someone that catches your interest sometime Jongdae,” Luhan said before turning his head to stare at him, “You deserve much more than this job gives. You deserve all the love. And you deserve to be happy.”

“Wow,” Jongdae said, leaning into the side of the door as he stared back at Luhan, “You must be really bored if you’ve resorted to talking about this, Luhan. But thank you. Really.”

“Just looking out for my partner,” Luhan grinned, lightly punching Jongdae’s shoulder, “I’ll have you know my best man speech has already been prepared for _years_. It’s time everyone knows the story of how you—”

“ _Thank_ you, Luhan,” Jongdae groaned, batting at him to shut up before he’d remember.

Soon, a man approached across the street, looking around before entering the warehouse. That was their guy.

“Final thing,” Luhan said as he ducked under the seat, patting himself to make sure his gun was where he usually kept it. He lowered his voice even though the man was far away enough he couldn’t hear them. “When you find that person…”

“If,” Jongdae corrected.

“ _When_ ,” Luhan firmly insisted, “…because you’re irresistible hot stuff with a great personality anyone loves…Don’t let them go.”

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

But Jongdae did.

Oh, if Luhan could only see him now.

It was easier for Jongdae not to think about things, to just rush in head-first and focus on the job that needed to be done in order to avoid feeling too much, so that’s what he did.

He welcomed every customer with a smile he so easily slid onto his face, scooped out countless perfect spheres of sweet ice cream, and tried not to lose focus when a customer asked him to give him anything at all because they couldn’t decide what flavor they wanted. By now, Jongdae could remove the bandage from his wrist, though the older women handed him a sweatband he could use to cover the tattoo. He knew why the others wore the same one now.

There were angry red marks around the letters, and Jongdae covered up the OSH, allowing himself a moment for his expression to crumple before he replaced it with a smile and greeted the next customer.

But no matter where Jongdae went, what he did, he could not forget Sehun.

Sehun was in the pink color of the strawberry ice cream, and every time Jongdae scooped some out of the container, he remembered how easily Sehun could blush when he was flustered. Sehun was in the way a customer bent over their napkin, scribbling the rough outline of their date with a pen. Jongdae remembered how easily Sehun could draw anyone he wanted even from the most vague of descriptions. Sehun was everywhere, the ghost of his laugh echoing in his head, the image of his smile refusing to disappear, and Jongdae was haunted no longer by images of Luhan bleeding, but now by Sehun laying so still.

There was a lot of denial.

Really, with no body for closure, no last chance to tell him sorry, Jongdae didn’t really believe Sehun was gone just like that. There was no way.

But the tattoo on his wrist reminded him every day that Sehun was, and soon, while Jessica hadn’t acted since that night, that didn’t mean that Sehun’s friends didn’t want to kill him themselves.

One day Jongdae sold ice cream by the park with Yeri, from his window, he could see a man pacing back and forth. As the crowd began to thin, the man approached closer and closer. Jongdae knew what was coming, and he didn’t fight it, didn’t even hide in the back of the truck, but took it as it came.

“Jongdae,” Jongin bellowed, startling the last customer they had. They quickly paid and left, running in the opposite direction. Yeri glanced at Jongin and winced, though stood by his side. “Get the _fuck_ out here.”

“Stay here,” Jongdae said, muttering to Yeri as he took off his gloves and stepped outside the truck. He took a deep breath and walked towards Jongin.

Jongin looked exactly like how Jongdae wanted to look, how he wanted to feel if he allowed himself to, and Jongdae took a moment to appreciate the raw fury etched onto Jongin’s expression, the grief that made his fists and his bottom lip shake.

Once Jongdae was close enough, Jongin wasted no time and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Jongdae let himself fall limp and allowed himself to be pulled forward, just using enough force to stand up straight.

“How could you _kill_ him?” Jongin screamed, shaking Jongdae by the front of his shirt. There was a crack in his voice, and Jongdae wondered how many times he could say sorry before he’d actually forgive himself.

“It happens in the business,” Jongdae said and hated himself for how calm he seemed right now.

“You fucking sell ice cream, Jongdae,” Jongin said, pushing him away.

“And you sell the clothes you model,” Jongdae said, “We’re the same. Do you know where the clothes go after you ship them off?”

“What?” Jongin asked, confusion escaping into his expression for a moment, “Of course not. Jessica just tells us to send the clothes to the designers that bought what she displayed for the month.”

So Jessica really did keep everything from her models. If she were ever to be arrested at least none of her employees would go down with her.

“But that’s beyond the point,” Jongin said as he launched himself at Jongdae. Jongdae stood still, feeling the first punch twist his head to the side. He stumbled onto the ground and looked up as Jongin stood above him. He only wiped the side of his mouth as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Sehun _trusted_ you,” Jongin said, swiftly kicking Jongdae’s left side with a foot. Jongdae never hated the trend of putting studs on shoes this much until this moment. Down he went, falling, waiting for whatever would happen next.

“He _believed_ in you,” Jongin said, kicking Jongdae’s other side.

“God, Jongdae,” Jongin said, getting on his knees as he pulled Jongdae up by his shirt. Jongdae admired how Jongin could cry so easily even now. “He never said this out loud, but I knew…I _knew_ he fucking loved you.”

Jongdae let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob, and as his shoulders shook, Jongin took the final swing.

“And you shot him,” Jongin said, knocking Jongdae on the floor again with a swift punch.

“And now he’s _gone_ ,” Jongin said, scrambling to his feet as he pulled out a gun and aimed it at Jongdae’s head.

Luckily there was only Jongdae laying on the floor, so at least no one around would be hurt if Jongin really were to shoot. For a moment Jongin looked on the verge of actually doing it, pressing his lips together, his eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated. Jongdae lay still, waiting for something to happen. He could hear Yeri screaming behind him, footsteps thudding into the ground, but even now he wondered if this was how Sehun had felt.

After a while, Jongdae realized Jongin didn’t even flip the safety off and spoke.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Jongdae asked, blinking up at the gun.

Jongin’s hands shook, and he gripped the gun with both hands, stepping closer to Jongdae.

“No,” Jongin said as he got to his knees again, “I’m not like you. I don’t know how to use a gun, and I don’t know how anyone could hurt those they care about.”

Jongin turned the gun around, struck Jongdae with it one last time, and got to his feet. From where Jongdae lay, he could see Jongin stalk off. He then found the energy to roll his head up so he could stare up at the sky while his arms spread apart. It was sunset, and there were wispy pinks, delicate swirls of soft colors painting the sky. It looked how Sehun smiled before he hid his face behind his hands, too shy to face Jongdae fully.

“You okay?” Yeri asked, standing over Jongdae and blocking his view of the sun.

“Does it look like it?” Jongdae laughed before clutching his sides in pain.

“No,” Yeri said, stretching her arm out in front of him, “But you’re still alive, so it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s that bad,” Jongdae said. Even though he could imagine the bruises he’d get tomorrow and feel the blood dripping from his face, he was not talking about himself.

“Get up, Jongdae,” Yeri sighed, “Don’t blame yourself for the things you didn’t do and start fixing the mistakes you did do.”

“Can’t fix this one,” Jongdae said.

“Then do better,” Yeri said, bending down to grab Jongdae’s hand. She tugged him upwards until he sat and continued pulling him up until he sighed and forced himself to stand. “Live better.”

“Then live better than me,” Jongdae said as Yeri clutched his arm, afraid he would fall over even though he was perfectly capable of dragging himself back to the truck himself, “Do better than me…than this.”

She looked at him and pressed her lips into almost a full smile.

It wasn’t a yes, a no, or even any sort of answer.

But it was a start.

The ride back was silent, and though Jongdae’s phone automatically connected to the Bluetooth system, he muted the music, letting themselves sit in silence.

“I’m going to the hospital now,” Jongdae said after they stepped out of the truck, “Do you want to come with me?”

“I’d love to,” Yeri said, “But I have to take care of my brother today.”

“I’ll bring some flowers for your mom,” Jongdae said.

“I…Thank you, Jongdae,” Yeri smiled before she walked away.

Jongdae headed to the florist’s shop and bought a bouquet of nice purple hyacinths for Yeri’s mother. He thought he should buy Luhan some, too, since he was already here, so he took his time to browse, looking at the different flowers. His heart dropped out of his chest as he passed the pink roses, and he quickly grabbed some yellow roses before he could think too much. They were the exact shade of yellow Luhan dyed his hair one year after finishing eight seasons of some anime and feeling inspired. He would like them.

Jongdae had done many reckless things before, but today, he gave in, surrendered, and took the bus to the next city over to the hospital because he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to drive himself given how much his body ached. He ignored the stares he received, as he didn’t even bother to clean up the blood from his skin or change his shirt. The bus driver was more than happy to let him off, and Jongdae trudged to the hospital reception to check himself in.

“Please sign these forms, and we’ll call you when a doctor is available,” the receptionist said once she saw Jongdae.

“I’m just here to visit someone,” Jongdae said, waving the forms away before he plunked the pot of hyacinths on the desk, “Please send these to Kim Yeri’s mother. I’m not sure what her name is, but these are for her.”

The receptionist promised to look into it, and Jongdae signed himself into Luhan’s visitor list before he headed up.

Once he was inside, Luhan was still unconscious to no one’s surprise. Jongdae placed the roses on the table and adjusted Luhan’s blankets before finally sinking into the chair.

“Hey, jackass,” Jongdae forcefully said with a smile, though after a second, it faltered, flickered, and slid off his face as he sighed. That was all he had energy for right now.

“I’m in a lot of trouble right now,” Jongdae said, putting his arms on the foot of Luhan’s bed before pressing his head into them.

“I think I may have just killed someone I would’ve wanted to come home to,” Jongdae said, his voice slightly muffled, “Just like you said.”

 _May? You did, or you didn’t, Jongdae, what the fuck_ … he pictured Luhan saying back at him.

Jongdae turned his head to the side and looked at Luhan. It was easier to say all of this out loud, especially when the other person couldn’t respond.

“I shot him five times in the chest,” Jongdae said a little louder, feeling braver than before, “What do you think of that?”

Jongdae lingered in the silence, taking the time to look around at the white walls, the white sheets, while listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor beside them.

“What now?” Jongdae asked. He asked the same question when he had first visited Luhan here.

“You’d probably say something like…Kneel at his feet and drag him back from the dead,” Jongdae said.

If only it were that easy.

Jongdae would have tried that anyways if there were a body for him to kneel at. He wondered who told Jessica so soon.

“He said he wouldn’t die for me. He’d live for me, Luhan,” Jongdae mumbled, “It’s not so easy is it…to do that.”

Luhan said nothing. Jongdae pretended the rise and fall of his chest meant _yes, you absolute fucker_.

“Thanks for staying alive at least,” Jongdae said, reaching over to hold Luhan’s hand, “Your cats are doing well by the way. They miss you. Yifan’s taking good care of them.”

Jongdae sat in silence longer, and some of his blood smeared onto the white sheets as he sat up and looked.

“I’m going to wrap this up,” Jongdae said, “It’s time Youngmin gets what he deserves. When you wake up, things will be right again.”

He didn’t feel better, but he didn’t feel worse. The pink sweatband began to feel too constricting, so he took it off and placed it next to the roses, clenching his fingers into a fist before relaxing.

OSH

“Thanks for the talk,” Jongdae said, tapping Luhan’s leg, “You’re the best.”

“See you around,” Jongdae said, taking one final look before he closed the door. If he had stayed for perhaps thirty seconds more, he would’ve seen Luhan’s finger begin to slightly twitch.

As Jongdae walked away, walked out of the hospital, he stopped in his tracks as soon as he exited the front doors.

Finally, he remembered where he had met Sehun before.

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

“I guess we fucked up this time,” Luhan said as he dejectedly sat next to Jongdae in the waiting room outside of Minseok’s office more than a year ago.

“We were so close,” Jongdae groaned, sinking lower in his seat.

The two of them had been chasing after someone they suspected was behind the series of recent robberies around the city. By luck, Jongdae and Luhan had been close enough to a bank when it was robbed, close enough to respond within seconds, and close enough to see the suspect with their own eyes. Jongdae had even shot the suspect in the shoulder after he pulled out a gun and shot at them, and Luhan even managed to rip off the suspect’s ski mask and prepared to snap handcuffs on him. But the suspect warned them that he would set off the bomb he planted inside the bank if he was not let go, complicating things.

Medium-length story short, the bank blew up anyways, startling Jongdae and Luhan enough for the suspect to escape. Luckily everyone inside had already fled the premises at least.

“Between a jackass and hot stuff,” Minseok said after Jongdae and Luhan dragged themselves back to the station. He opened the door of his office and walked outside, his arms crossed. “Who wants to go first?”

“It sounds cooler when we say that,” Luhan complained before pushing Jongdae out of his chair, “You go first.”

Jongdae threw him a look before marching inside Minseok’s office leaving Luhan to wait outside for his turn next.

“Sit down, Jongdae,” Minseok said as he sat behind his desk.

Jongdae sat and watched as Minseok silently flipped through some files, scanning them through.

“Sorry,” Jongdae said, “We should’ve requested for backup.”

“You couldn’t have done anything different now. You win some, and you let some go. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Minseok said, glancing up from his papers.

“Minseok he was right _there_ ,” Jongdae said folding his arms on the table and lowering his head into them. “I could’ve caught him.”

“Next time, Jongdae,” Minseok said, “You’re still alive, so look forward to next time. Not all was lost, either way. These heists and attacks of violence were planned, and we have the name of the person who ordered everything. Kim Youngmin. When you’re up for it, I’ll let you and Luhan have a crack at the case a couple months from now since we’re still gathering data.”

“Really?” Jongdae said, though he still kept his head down on the desk, “Thanks for your trust. We won’t mess up next time.”

“There you go,” Minseok said, “Now we have a sketch artist here to work with you to see if we can pull a hit in our database if the guy was arrested or in the system before.”

Jongdae raised a hand and waved him off. He continued resting his head in his arms, listening as the door opened and closed behind him. Five minutes later, the door opened again, and he heard footsteps entering.

“It’s still my turn, jackass,” Jongdae said, “I have to meet with a sketch artist, so keep waiting outside. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Silence.

“Oh,” a different voice said quietly, “Sorry…I’m the sketch artist here for you?”

“Fuck…Sorry about that. I thought you were my partner,” Jongdae said, squirming. Now there was no way he could lift up his head.

“It’s all right,” the man said, sitting down where Minseok had previously sat, “Can you describe the person for me?”

“Ugly,” Jongdae said.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” the man laughed. Jongdae liked his laugh.

“Uglier than the three criminals waiting outside down the hall waiting to be processed,” Jongdae tried again.

“Come on,” the man laughed again. Jongdae shifted his arms to make sure his face was completely hidden and smiled.

“Okay…” Jongdae said, “Square jaw…wild hair. It didn’t look like he showered daily that’s for sure. His features were sort of…centered close together if that makes sense. Like someone grabbed his face and squished it all together and it stuck like that.”

“Tragic,” the man said. Jongdae listened as the man’s pencil rapidly moved and scratched at the paper in front of him.

“You sound really good at this,” Jongdae said.

“I have to be if I want to keep working here,” the man said, “Anything else?”

“He had thin lips,” Jongdae said, “And…eyes that scream murder. Like…how you can look at someone and just _know_ they’ve done some bad things. This guy was only robbing banks before, but he escalated into blowing them up today.”

“Oh,” the man said in a quieter voice, “You had to chase this type of a person?”

“Why? Are you scared?” Jongdae asked.

“I guess for you,” the man said. The pencil stopped moving. “Don’t die on the job.”

“For you, I’ll stay alive,” Jongdae said, unable to help himself, “I should’ve caught him so you’d have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s okay,” the man said. Soon, Jongdae felt a hand gently rub his shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll get him next time. But you’re probably tired, so I’ll leave the sketch here. If you want to make any changes, have Minseok call me.”

“I’m sure the sketch is perfect, but I’d make Minseok call you anyways so you’ll be back here next time,” Jongdae said before he could change his mind. He was tempted to lift his head up from his arms, and when he finally did, it was too late. The man had already opened the door, his back facing Jongdae. All Jongdae could see from here were broad shoulders, long legs, and black hair.

“See you around,” the man said. Jongdae could hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s meet again sometime.”

 

 

 

ϟ ϟ ϟ

 

 

 

Jongdae continued his routine every day. He woke up at the same time, worked his shift at the diner every day, and attended all those arms deals late at night when he was needed. It was impossible to link back Youngmin to all of this because he only called, never said his name, and discussed everything so vaguely he could’ve been talking about any deal at all.

Minseok had told him to play it safe, to only act in order to prevent risks on himself, but Jongdae had enough. A week later, he found himself summoning a car to drive him around Jessica’s building. He knew he’d be paying extra since all he was doing was sitting parked in the back alley near the building, but he knew that he would literally be dead if he walked into Jessica’s place. Checking to make sure his driver minded his own business, Jongdae unbuckled his seatbelt, pulled out a laptop, and began hacking into the building’s security feed.

There was nothing unusual in the front of the store. A few of the models tended to any curious customers and others stood at the cash register ringing up purchases. Jongdae recognized Jongin from the pixels and watched as he folded clothes with his head bent downwards. He stared a moment longer before switching the cameras.

All the dressing rooms were empty, the halls eerily dim, and the only place left to check was Jessica’s office. Jongdae let out a chuckle and shook his head once he switched cameras. Of course Youngmin was there. Of course he was now.

Jongdae raised the volume on his headphones and listened in. From the video feed, he could see Youngmin sitting at the desk while Jessica paced around, her heels clicking on the floor. Occasionally, she threw her hands in the air.

“They killed Sehun. One of mine. I thought I could protect him, but I failed…Just _look_ ,” Jessica said, sounding near tears as she threw a stack of photos down for Youngmin to see. Jongdae ripped his gaze away from the computer, choosing to check on the driver at this moment.

“Then how will you answer?” Youngmin said, “I don’t care if they’re my top dealers. If you want to kill them all, then do it.”

Jongdae took a breath, adjusted the screen of his laptop, and continued observing them.

“Lend me some of your men, and it will be done,” she said.

“You have your own. Why borrow mine?” Youngmin said.

Jessica stopped pacing and finally crossed her arms.

“Your men are more expendable than my people,” she said.

Youngmin looked at her before letting out a laugh.

“Watch your words, Jessica,” he said, “I came here to warn you for a final time, but you’re saying this to me?”

But the door suddenly burst open, and Jongdae recognized Soojung who frantically ran into the room, stopping for a moment to glance at Youngmin before grabbing Jessica’s arm.

“Jess,” she said, “The store’s being vandalized.”

“What?” Jessica said. Youngmin stood up, straightened up his clothes, and took that as his cue to leave.

“Deal with them, or I’ll come back to deal with you,” Youngmin said, “Up to you, Jessica.”

Jessica just looked at him once, decided her priorities were somewhere else, and ran after Soojung. Jongdae switched cameras to keep up with them, and soon, he stared at the screen in disbelief.

At first glance, it looked like members of his own diner were destroying the store. All of them wore aprons, ski masks over their heads, and they loudly yelled as they waved bats around, smashing everything they could reach. A few of the models attempted to fight them, but were thrown back. Soon, display cases were all broken, clothes thrown on the floor, and structures overturned.

But the more Jongdae watched the fight, the more he was sure something was wrong. The older women would never wear tank tops anywhere, as they only wore long sleeved shirts as part of their own uniform. They wouldn’t be so careless as to leave their aprons on, too.

Someone had staged this attack to make it seem as if the people from the diner attacked Jessica’s store. This was a show, not a proper hit. He was sure if Yeeun and the others wanted to do damage, they’d bring guns, not bats. This was done to incite a reaction, and after enough damage was done, the women pulled out and piled into a white van.

That was also not their style. Yeeun would drive that ice cream truck anywhere even if it was not even in the slightest bit inconspicuous. Interesting. Jongdae switched cameras, saw Youngmin step into an unmarked black car in the back entrance of the store, and had his guess.

He changed back cameras again to survey the damage that had been left behind. The disoriented models stood or sat around silently, and Jessica stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She gingerly stepped over the glass and helped one of her employees up before scolding them for not wearing their leather jacket. In the corner, a message in purple was spray painted on the walls.

 

_TODAY. 3AM._

 

That’s when Jongdae was completely certain this was most definitely a set-up. If this was the doing of those he worked with, then at least the paint would be pink. Or red.

After watching a little longer, he told his driver to take him back to the diner. Jongdae insisted on being dropped off two blocks away, and he walked slowly, taking his time to think.

But as soon as he approached the diner, he heard gunshots firing and immediately crouched along the wall. He pulled out the gun Yeeun had given him and made sure it was loaded before moving closer until he could peek in from the front door.

The women had all barricaded themselves into the ice cream counter, tables pushed against the entrance to shield themselves. The older women occasionally peeked out of the barricade to fire into the diner. Jongdae tried to peer closer, and sure enough, people dressed in dark masks and leather jackets fired back from the barricade they had made with overturned tables.

That was fast.

He didn’t think Jessica would be the type to retaliate like this. Still, Jongdae refused to believe her employees were responsible. Jongin didn’t know how to use a gun, and he doubted the others did, too. So who were these people?

Jongdae watched the women continue to fire shots until there were long periods of silence. No one stuck their arm out to return fire. Perhaps they had run out of ammunition. Their opponents seemed to realize that and cautiously crept out of their barricades. They stood, firing a few shots before realizing this was their chance and soon rushed across the diner to deal more damage. Without waiting to see what would happen, Jongdae flung the door open and fired quick shots at the people while the welcoming chimes tolled loudly.

The people stumbled, grabbed their sides, and in that moment, the older women burst out, knocking the guns out of their hands and fighting them. The other two people began to struggle, stumbling around as they succumbed to the women.

“We can’t be caught,” one of them yelled.

The other nodded, and with the last amounts of energy they both had, they both slipped through the women’s clutches and ran out towards the exit. Jongdae grabbed one, but they were too desperate to flee and slipped out of the jacket. Jongdae watched them leave, crumpling the leather in his hands.

“I didn’t know you had such a good shot, Jongdae,” Sunmi said, “That was impressive.”

Behind them, Yubin lead the younger waitresses out from the counter, checking them for any injuries and asking if they were okay. Everyone but Yeri nodded and brushed themselves off. Yeri looked at the bullet holes, surveyed the broken glass, and only stared with wide eyes, her arms hugging her sides.

“See? We made a good choice recruiting him,” Hyerim said, smiling at Jongdae. Even now, not a single hair was out of place despite the fight she had just been in.

Jongdae stared at the damage that had been done to the diner. The pristine pink walls were now tainted with scrapes, with bullet holes, and the tables had all been overturned and scraped. Most of the neon lights in the back had been destroyed after being hit with bullets, and now the remaining glowing letters only read D  I E. While the other women continued to talk, Jongdae turned his attention to the the leather jacket, and even though he turned it inside out, felt every inch of the material, Jessica’s brand symbol was missing.

“Has the kitchen been damaged, too?” Jongdae asked, looking up from the jacket.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Hyerim said, beckoning everyone to come, “We have to decide what to do anyways.”

Jongdae followed everyone inside, and the kitchen seemed fine. Nothing was destroyed, but a message was spray painted on the freezers.

 

_TODAY. 3AM._

 

“Shouldn’t it technically be tomorrow?” Sunmi asked, placing her arms on her hips, “Today’s almost done.”

“What do you think she wants?” Yubin asked, crossing her arms together. Jongdae clutched the leather jacket in his hands and doubted.

“I guess we’ll find out when I go,” Yeeun said, “It’s not necessary for anyone else to come.”

“We’re going with you,” Hyerim said, placing her hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “You saw what they did to our store today.”

“It’s just Jessica. What could she possibly do?” Yeeun shrugged, “Honestly even if I sent in someone less gifted with guns, they’ll still be able to report for regular work tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t be so careless,” Yeri spoke up, keeping her hands tightly folded in her lap, “It’d just take one shot, and…”

She trailed off and averted her gaze.

“You’re sweet for caring, Yeri,” Yeeun said, “But it’s only Jessica. We’re the favored dealers, so she would have to know if she shoots us, it won’t look good for her.”

As if on cue, her phone began to ring, and after glancing at the caller id, she raised a finger to her lips and held the phone out on speaker.

“Hello,” Youngmin said.

“Hello,” Yeeun said, “What do you need? If you want to squeeze in an extra deal, you’re going to have to give us a few days.”

“Oh, no don’t worry about that,” Youngmin said, “It’s just come to my attention that Jessica intends to kill you tonight at the meeting. I thought I’d give my favorite arms dealers a heads up.”

Jongdae was slightly amused, realizing how obvious everything was. Murmuring began spreading throughout the group, and Yeeun firmly placed her fingers on her lips before speaking again.

“That’s kind of you,” Yeeun said, though she did not sound as genuine as before, “What’ll you have us do?”

“Talk things through,” Youngmin said, “It’d be a shame if all my weapon sources just died. Kill her if you have to.”

Yeeun looked unimpressed, looked on the verge of saying something, but closed her mouth to think.

“Is that all you came to tell us?” Yeeun asked again.

“Yes. I’ll check in with you later. Don’t disappoint me,” Youngmin said before the call disconnected.

“So,” Yeeun said after a moment of silence. She put her phone away and clapped her hands together. “I’ll go by myself. That’s all this will take.”

She raised her hand, waving off the instant protests.

“It’s only Jessica,” Yeeun said again.

“If it’s only Jessica, then I’ll go with you,” Jongdae said. Youngmin had probably staged whatever was going on soon, and if he planned on coming in person, this would be Jongdae’s chance. “Since…she wouldn’t be happy to see me the most.”

Yeeun considered it before nodding.

“If she tries to kill you, I’ll kill her right back,” Yeeun said, making a gun with her fingers and pretending to shoot it.

“…Thanks,” Jongdae said.

“It’s settled then,” Yeeun said, “You guys stay and clean up so Jongdae and I can have a nice workplace for tomorrow.”

When.

Jongdae tried not to think of the possibility one or both of them might not come back.

Everyone nodded grimly and began to file out of the kitchen. Yeri hung back, grabbing Jongdae’s arm to stop him.

“Jongdae,” she said, her fingers digging into his skin. She took a shaky breath before speaking. “Be careful. You…deserve to live better than this.”

“I know,” Jongdae said, “You do, too.”

There was silence, and Yeri glanced at the people, making sure the others were out of the kitchen completely before she spoke.

“I know,” Yeri smiled.

Before Yeri could say anything else, Yeeun opened the kitchen door again and knocked on the walls.

“Hurry,” she said, “We can’t be too late.”

Jongdae followed, taking one look at the diner, memorizing the pink walls, the booths, the lights that only said D I E now, the ice cream counter where he’d been stationed for so long. He took a final look at the women that he’d spent so much time with during this mission. Maybe he’d die tonight. Maybe they’d die tonight, given what was to come.

They all looked so young and not. The past lingered on the shadows of their skin, the dark marks on their wrists and their bodies reminding them what had been done, what’d always be done in this type of a life. Jongdae stared at their faces, and their expressions, lit by the neon lights, seemed haunted by the prospect of a future that’d always be like this.

“Stay alive,” Jongdae said with a final nod before swinging the doors open, hearing the welcoming bell chime a last time before jogging after Yeeun.

After she drove them past the city, Jongdae tried not to act as restless as he felt and distracted himself by asking questions. That was his job after all. He watched Yeeun carefully drive, checking her mirrors, keeping the stereo off, and keeping both hands on the steering wheel. Jongdae stared at her wrists that, unlike the younger waitresses and him, did not bear any mark or even a wristband to hide any tattoos.

“All the younger waitresses and I have our wrists tattooed,” Jongdae carefully said, “Why don’t you or any of the others?”

Yeeun laughed, smacking her hand on the wheel before she pulled over to park somewhere quickly.

“If you’re insinuating that we make others kill but don’t kill ourselves, then you’re wrong,” she said before she pulled off half her shirt and exposed her back to Jongdae. From the dim light of the streetlights, Jongdae could see countless names tattooed all over her skin.

“We get tattoos to remember what we’ve done, who we’ve had to sacrifice in order to ensure our own survival,” Yeeun said before pulling her shirt back down.

“How did you start working as an arms dealer?” Jongdae asked, “You look happy enough working at the diner.”

“Youngmin lent us the money to start the diner. We just didn’t read the fine print, so we’re stuck doing things for him, doing all of this for him if we don’t want to be killed,” Yeeun said, “We don’t pay him back with just money, you know. Each of us has a long list of names that’ll never leave us.”

She stared ahead for a second longer before pulling out and driving forwards again.

“Mistakes are mistakes. You live with what you did, and once you make one, there’s no hope. The past traps you, Jongdae. It haunts every decision you make in the present, and the path forwards looks just as bleak as the past,” Yeeun mused.

Jongdae didn’t agree tonight.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, Yeeun occasionally humming under her breath. Jongdae carefully watched where they were heading to, and as they drove beside the river, he knew where. It was a pity Youngmin was predictable in this way after all, but he supposed meeting in the open rather than in one of his buildings would be risky for him.

Once a warehouse loomed in the distance, Yeeun parked at a considerable distance away and pulled her phone.

“Hello?” Yeeun said, placing the phone on speaker. Jongdae covertly pulled out his phones and pressed a few buttons before sliding it back into his pocket. “We’re here.”

“Good. You’re a minute late, but that can’t be helped,” Youngmin’s voice crackled out of the speaker.

One of Yeeun’s eyebrows quirked upwards, but she controlled her tone.

“What do you want us to do?” Yeeun said, “She called the meeting.”

“Sort it out yourself first. I will be there shortly, and I hope to have everything resolved by then. By the end of tonight, you should be the only arms dealer I will work with,” Youngmin said, “If Jessica is gone, then there’s no pressure on you or the other women you work with.”

“I’ll believe you when she’s really gone,” Yeeun said.

“Of course,” Youngmin smoothly said.

“Ah, fuck him,” Yeeun said after she disconnected the call. She sank in her chair, looking weary for a moment before unbuckling her seat belt and making sure her gun was loaded. After taking the keys out, she threw them to Jongdae to hold.

“Ready?” Yeeun said as she opened the door. “Don’t be too scared. I’ll shoot that woman before she can even pull the trigger.”

Jongdae nodded, checking his own gun before climbing out. When they walked into the warehouse, Jongdae expected many people to be waiting with guns instantly pointed to them. But really, there was only Jessica. She handled her business alone, her illegal arms deals alone, and everything else alone. At least she had no desire to involve those she loved in dirty business like this. But feeling all the stress, the burden, and the guilt was no way to live. Alone was no way to be.

Despite it all, Jongdae was glad he at least had Yeeun next to him, willing to shoot if things got bad.

Once Jessica saw them, she pulled out her gun and pointed it at Yeeun. Reflexively, Jongdae pulled out his own and aimed it at her. Yeeun did the same.

“I expected all your girls to come,” Jessica said.

“I didn’t think it would be worth it,” Yeeun said, “I could’ve come to this meeting alone, but Jongdae came along for fun. It’s not like we take you seriously as a real threat, Jessica.”

Jessica’s expression tightened, and she flipped the safety off of her gun.

“Go ahead. Shoot me,” Yeeun said, “If you do, Jongdae will shoot you. Neither of us is getting out at this rate.”

Jessica held the gun and her position, and soon, minutes passed without anything happening. Jongdae had been in much tenser situations than this, and despite the guns involved, he wasn’t worried.

“Do you even know how to use that?” Yeeun asked after Jessica did nothing. Jessica raised an eyebrow and shot at the ceiling before pointing it again at Yeeun.

“It’s still two against one,” Yeeun said, “Don’t you have people you could’ve used?”

“No,” Jessica said, “My mistakes are my own. There’s no need to drag others down with me like you’ve done. You make all the younger members of your crew kill someone they care about in order to swear loyalty to you, right? That’s pitiful. You should be ashamed.”

“At least when times come like this, we won’t be standing alone like you,” Yeeun said, “But do something interesting before I shoot. I’m supposed to kill you, you know.”

Jessica laughed.

“I’m supposed to kill you, too,” Jessica said, “Youngmin said so.”

Yeeun paused.

“He told me to kill you, too,” Yeeun said, “What the fuck?”

But before anyone could speak or shoot, the door near the back of the warehouse began to slide open.

“So who’s left?” someone shouted as the door opened, echoing across the room. "Who's dead?"

In that moment, Jongdae knew he was fucked.

Across the room, he could see Youngmin’s figure walking towards them flanked by two of his men. Once he was close enough to see everyone’s faces, he stopped in his tracks.

“I expected more people and some bodies to be laying on the floor, but…is that really you?” he said. He leaned forwards, as if squinting to see more, but gave up and walked closer until he was only meters away from them. Jongdae gripped his gun tightly, but did not move it away from Jessica.

“You?” Youngmin said, pointing at Jongdae before clapping his hands together and laughing, “So it really is you…When I heard my men tell me that a Jongdae started working with Yeeun, I thought that it must’ve been another Jongdae…because I remember leaving _my_ Jongdae broken. On the verge of death. How’s Luhan, by the way? I hear he’s still out cold. Maybe he’ll never wake up.”

“Shut up,” Jongdae said as calmly as he could, which wasn’t very calm at all. Yeeun turned to glance at Jongdae, though still kept her gun pointed on Jessica.

“I could send my men one day, you know,” Youngmin said, “One can slip him an overdose of morphine. He’ll never wake up then.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Jongdae yelled, pointing his gun towards Youngmin now, “You’re the head of a criminal empire…First drug smuggling, now arms dealing…Is there anything else you want to admit to while we’re here?”

“When you say it like that,” Youngmin said thoughtfully while his men both gripped their guns tightly, “I sound incredible, right? Me…who’s kept this city at my feet. Me who’s controlled every criminal enterprise with no one even daring to challenge me. Kidnapping. Bribery. Fraud. Arms dealing. Murder. I’ve done it all.”

“You’ve used all these people…” Jongdae said, sweeping his arms around him. He didn’t dare to look away from Youngmin now, but he couldn’t imagine Yeeun’s expression. “And when you’re done with them, you discard them. Isn’t that why you played them…set up hits on both of them so they would be pushed to wipe each other out? So you don’t even have to do anything but watch as both of them kill each other? You’ve found a new arms source. That’s why you have no use for Yeeun or Jessica now.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Yeeun’s arm hanging loosely at her side.

“Jongdae,” Youngmin sighed, “If you wanted to have this conversation, couldn’t you have waited until they were both dead? This isn’t good for business.”

“We can wait and finish when you’re in custody,” Jongdae shrugged.

“You think you can really arrest me?” Youngmin laughed, “I’ll kill you before you even pull the trigger.”

Jongdae glanced around, realizing there was no cover, and all the pillars were too far away. Taking a deep breath, he looked forwards and accessed the situation. There was Youngmin in the center. One man on the left. Another on the right. He didn’t think he could shoot all three before he was shot himself.

“I’ve recorded this whole conversation,” Jongdae smiled. It felt good, saying those words. It felt better, learning from past mistakes. But he’d feel best if Luhan was here to see all what they worked towards. “So, Kim Youngmin, you’re under fucking arrest. Do you want me to read your rights now or after I shove your head through the car?”

There was no backup waiting for him, but Jongdae hoped it would throw Youngmin off. But when did anything go to plan anyways? There were always surprises thrown at him, and he was doing his best, trying his best, just like anyone else.

“Or you can kill me now,” Youngmin said after a slight pause, “Just try…try it. Kill me like you killed Jessica’s boy. I heard he loved you. How could you do it?”

At the mention of that, Jongdae felt his heart stop, reminded again of the pool of red, the exact way Sehun’s body had been thrown back from the force of the shots, the way he laid motionless all because of Jongdae.

Youngmin stepped forwards and stretched his arms out. He waited a few moments calmly, eyeing Jongdae’s gun. Jongdae strode forwards until he pressed the gun to Youngmin’s heart. He could feel the guns that had been pointed at him.

“They told me you ripped five bullets into his body, that you kissed him before he died. Oh, you’re a dirty traitor aren’t you? Who does that to someone they love? Or did you even love him at all?” Youngmin said, lips curling up in amusement.

Jongdae pressed his lips together, as images of the past flashed in his head. He remembered that smile, that laughter, and felt tears rush to his eyes. Then he remembered Luhan who still lay on the hospital bed and realized he could right the wrongs now. Do what he couldn’t do back then. But back then he didn’t fire from point blank range…This would be murder, and yet, Jongdae still felt his finger tighten on the trigger, and –

Suddenly gunshots filled the air, and Youngmin was thrown back, causing Jongdae to scramble backwards, tripping on nothing as he fell on the floor. He could feel Youngmin’s blood on him and wondered how he was alive.

“Fuck,” Jongdae choked out, his hands shaking. His gun fell from his hands, scattered away from his reach. Beside him lay Youngmin’s men, their blood spilling onto the concrete. He raised his shaking hands to his face, saw the blood it was splattered with. If he squinted, he could pretend it was just strawberry syrup.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t you,” a voice laughed, causing Jongdae to remember his gun had been still loaded, the trigger still on.

Yeeun slowly walked towards him, though kept her gun pointed at Youngmin’s body.

“I knew it. He wanted to get rid of us all,” she grimly said, “After all we’ve done for him. After all we suffered.”

She kicked his body and spat on it.

Jessica stepped closer, her heels clicking in the pavement, causing Yeeun to raise her gun at her instead.

“I’m not here for you,” Jessica said, her figure illuminated by the lights she walked underneath for a moment. As soon as she was close enough, she held out her gun and emptied it into Youngmin’s chest.

“He threatened my family so many times,” Jessica said, flicking her hair back, “Trying to kill you wasn’t personal, you know. I was just trying to keep everyone alive.”

“How touching,” Yeeun said, lowering her gun slightly, “But the feeling is mutual, so I won’t kill you today. You, on the other hand.”

She turned, pointing her gun at Jongdae now. Jongdae regretted that his gun was just a little too far away. If he even moved the slightest bit now, he’d be shot.

“You’re a police officer. You walked into our ice cream shop, handed me your application in person, all for this. Betrayal. I expected better, Jongdae. I gave you a gun, the keys to our store, and our _trust_ ,” Yeeun said. Her rage was contained, her voice even, but Jongdae noticed the clench in her jaw and the twitch of her eyebrow. If she shot each of the men twice, then there were only six bullets gone. One was enough to kill.

“So a cop shot Sehun,” Jessica said, throwing away her gun and picking up a discarded one from one of Youngmin’s men’s limp hands, “What do you say we kill him together?”

“I’ve killed many,” Yeeun said, “What’s one more? What’s one more name? I’ll tattoo your name somewhere nice, Jongdae. Don’t worry. You won’t be forgotten.”

But before Jongdae had time to flinch, to talk his way out of the situation, or to do anything at all, another gunshot sounded. Yeeun and Jessica spun around for a moment, searching for the shooter, which was all the time Jongdae needed to grab his gun and fire a shot into each of their shoulders. Jongdae shakily stood, gun still raised. He decided Yeeun was the bigger threat and kept his gun aimed at her while she groaned and clutched at her bleeding shoulder.

“Fuck!” a voice yelled, “Did you see that, Jongdae? I was aiming for the lights but missed.”

Jongdae almost collapsed completely on the floor right then and there, but he didn’t have to because when his knees began to grow weak, an arm caught him. Jongdae saw another gun from his peripheral vision, but this one was pointed at Yeeun.

“ _God_ ,” Jongdae said, his shoulders already beginning to shake, a wave of hysterical relief crashing over him, “I knew it…I _knew_ you wouldn’t die, Sehun.”

 _Sehun_.

“How did you know my jacket was bulletproof?” Sehun said, and Jongdae could feel the grin in his voice as he stepped beside him. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of Jongdae’s head, and that’s when Jongdae started crying. “Even I didn’t know that…I missed you, by the way. After Minseok sent a team of people to get me and stage the damage, he made me stay away and pretend to be dead. Out of everything that’s happened, that was the hardest. If only I had your beautiful self as a companion instead of death.”

Jongdae pressed his hand over his mouth, slowly turning his head to look, and when he saw Sehun standing there, so alive, so alight, so all right, a loud sob escaped his mouth and echoed into the large space. There Sehun was, just like had remembered.

Beautiful. Breathing. Brave.

The bravest.

“Careful,” Jongdae said, brushing away his tears, “death might take you if he hears you say that.”

On the floor, Yeeun sat, her jaw dropped open as she stared at Sehun.

“I saw Jongdae shoot you five times,” she said, “No one can survive that. And the blood…There was so much blood.”

“Aren’t you glad I stuck all those strawberry syrup packets in your pocket now?” Jongdae laughed through his tears.

“Not many people can say their life was saved by getting shot,” Sehun smiled.

“Even Jongdae knows I take care of my own,” Jessica calmly said, the shock melting off of her face. Unlike Yeeun there was no blood on her clothes, no pain contorting her face. Jongdae glanced at the jacket she wore and thought it was a pity she made bulletproof clothing for criminals. What a waste of talent. “I should have known something wasn’t right when we were only sent pictures of the scene and never your actual body…But I took you in, Sehun. I protected you. I gave you a job, a bulletproof jacket, a place with the others and me, and I only expected loyalty in return. Now you’re one of them, too. A cop.”

She pointed her gun towards Sehun, and Jongdae was less sure of the probability she would shoot this time.

“Just a sketch artist, actually,” Sehun said, “I’m just trying to do my part. Take down bad guys. Take guns off the street. Do it with the most beautiful person right next to me.”

At this moment Jongdae was absolutely sure the wild racing of his heart had nothing to do with the guns pointed at him but rather Sehun, just Sehun, always Sehun.

“You’re saying an artist and a cop are going to take us down,” Yeeun said, stumbling to her feet.

“When I say three,” Jongdae whispered, “Run behind you and out the door. I’ll cover you.”

“Okay,” Sehun said, waiting for the one.

But Jongdae felt Luhan alive in him tonight, and with a laugh, he yelled.

“ _Three_ ,” Jongdae said, firing nonfatal shots before either of the women could react.

He ran backwards, shooting at the ground to make sure they would not return fire easily before running after Sehun. As Sehun swung the door open, the chill of the night hit them. Without wasting time, Jongdae pointed in the direction of the truck and they sprinted as fast as they could, hearts racing, blood pounding, gasping for breath.

Once they were inside the truck, Jongdae slammed the door shut and threw himself at Sehun.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” Jongdae said, burying his head in Sehun’s chest, “I didn’t know for sure if your jacket was bulletproof…It was just a guess. What if you actually died? I really started to think you were really gone.”

“But I’m still here. I’m still alive,” Sehun said, rubbing Jongdae’s back, “I’m sure death must’ve strolled up and thought it was time for him to take me, but you saved me. I’m here now.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae shakily said, thrusting his wrist at Sehun for him to see, “They made me go see Minseok because _apparently_ he’s a fucking undercover tattoo artist. I have your name on my wrist so I wouldn’t forget what I did. Look at it.”

He was blabbering on, everything he wanted to say bursting out and pouring from his lips. Sehun looked surprised, gently taking Jongdae’s hand and pulling it closer so he could take a better look.

“Wow,” Sehun said, tracing his initials on Jongdae’s skin with a finger, “When this is all done, I’ll get your name on my wrist so we can match. KJD. How about that?”

“Don’t leave again,” Jongdae said, peeking up at Sehun now. Rapid gunfire echoed in the distance, but Jongdae could only look at Sehun even now.

“Sorry, but I have to,” Sehun sighed, and Jongdae’s heart almost dropped out of his chest for the thousandth time this whole month before Sehun smiled. “After all, if we stay here, we’ll get shot instantly. So let’s go, you and me. Do you have the keys to the truck? I’ll drive.”

Jongdae pressed kisses to Sehun’s cheek before handing him the keys. As Sehun started the engine, Jongdae stared in the rearview mirror and saw cars approaching fast, but they still had time. As Sehun pulled out of the parking spot, the Bluetooth system beeped pleasantly, signaling that Jongdae’s phone had been successfully connected. Soon, every speaker in the truck boomed as someone started rapping over a sick beat.

 

HEY THERE GOOD LOOKING PERSON, WHAT’S UP

TO ALL GUYS WHO PLAYED YOU: mAN GET FUCKED

 

“What the fuck?” Sehun asked, gripping onto the wheel tighter as he furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head as he listened to the music that played.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Jongdae groaned, fumbling to turn off the music, “Yifan downloaded all his mixtapes on my phone and titled them so they’d be the first thing that automatically played.”

But suddenly Sehun made a quick turn after he noticed the cars speeding after him, making Jongdae knock against the other side of the truck, the phone falling out of his grasp and sliding and falling somewhere he couldn’t see. The music continued to blast loudly both inside the truck’s internal speakers and the external ones attached to the top of the vehicle.

 

YOU’RE BRIGHTER THAN THE MOON, THE STARS, MY BEAUTIFUL VENUS

I’M GONNA TREAT YOU RIGHT EVERY NIGHT WITH MY BIG P—

 

Jongdae screamed, though not because of the cars chasing them. He turned around, looking behind them, and from one of the cars that accelerated towards them, he saw an gun stick out of the window and begin shooting.

Jongdae threw himself at the freezer, wildly searching as Sehun focused on driving. Luckily, there were still surprise flavors, so he ignored the bite of the frost and lifted one container out as fast as he could and searched the shelves until he found a knife that had been previously used to cut fresh fruit.

“Hold on for five minutes,” Jongdae shouted, rapidly sawing at the bottom of the tub. Cutting into ice cream was tough, but trying to do so while unseatbelted, enduring several sharp turns, and getting slammed left and right was harder. Jongdae instinctively ducked his head when he heard bullets slam into the back door of the truck.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae shouted above the music, hoping Sehun could hear him.

 

BABY JUST TRUST ME, HEY MY HEART’S ON LOAN,

FROM SUNUP TO SUNDOWN I’M GONNA MAKE YOU M—

 

“I’ve never felt more alive,” Sehun shouted, crouching down as he heard another spray of bullets, though continued to drive as best as he could.

After Jongdae finally managed to saw through the bottom of the ice cream container, sure enough, he found a plastic bag with guns and bullets at the bottom. After assembling and loading a gun, Jongdae made his way to the back of the truck and carefully opened the back window before shooting at the car behind them.

Jongdae didn’t have the best shot for nothing, and within moments, the car swerved to the right, crashing into another parked car after one of its front wheels was damaged. Cars had suddenly swerved out of the lane behind them to avoid crashing. At this hour, there were barely any civilian cars in the lane beside them to slow down their chasers, and as a car began to drive next to the truck and matched its speed, guns poked out of the open windows to shoot at them again.

Jongdae stumbled as he tried to reach to the left window, and once he opened it a crack, he stared at the people attacking them. It wasn’t Yeeun or Jessica, but the windows were too tinted to make out any faces. He supposed Youngmin’s men had finally figured out he was dead. Jongdae poked his gun through the tiny space and kept shooting until he ran out of bullets. The glass of the car shattered, sending someone yelling. Jongdae threw himself on the floor, scrambling to reload his gun.

But in the time it took for him to do that, another car had switched places with the damaged car and sent another storm of bullets into the left side of the truck. Sehun suddenly yelled, quickly letting go of the wheel to grab at his left arm, wincing in pain. Jongdae could see blood blossoming through his shirt, and he felt his heart stop.

He didn’t think, didn’t take the time to even realize what he was doing until he ran forwards, found himself switching places with Sehun, hands grabbing the wheel and feet finding the accelerator before the truck could swivel out of place.

“Are you okay?” Jongdae asked, tearing his gaze off of the road for a second to gaze at Sehun who sat slumped on the floor clutching his arm.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, looking up at him with wide eyes, “You’re driving.”

“I guess I am,” Jongdae said, clenching his jaw as he sped through two red lights without a second thought. He took a deep breath and made a sharp right turn before he had time to panic.

“You’re doing great, Jongdae,” Sehun shouted, “You’re the best driver I know.”

At that moment, Jongdae accidentally hit a mailbox after turning too early and abruptly twisted the wheel again to avoid driving on half the pavement.

“You were saying?” Jongdae said, wondering how big the dent must be. He wondered how he could be so calm.

“We’re going to be fine,” Sehun said, “I trust you.”

“I hate this so much,” Jongdae said, gripping the wheel so tightly he felt as if the veins in his hands would pop out of his skin, “Luhan was the driver, remember? I was the one that—”

“Will get us out of here,” Sehun forcefully said, “What happened is done. What I do know that will happen right now, right here, is that you’re going to use your supreme driving skills, and we’re going to make it.”

“You’re bleeding,” Jongdae said, not trusting himself to take his eyes off the road again.

“You’re driving,” Sehun said, “I think you’re the one who needs more support.”

But he could not hide the shakiness out of his voice, and Jongdae stepped on the accelerator to compensate. In the background, Yifan’s embarrassing mixtapes still blasted, filling the tense silence.

“We need to call Minseok,” Jongdae said, “He’s probably heard reports of this by now.”

Sehun stumbled around the truck, looking for Jongdae’s phone, but covered his head instinctively with his hands when he heard shots that impaled into the side of the truck again.

“Okay,” Jongdae calmly said, cutting into the lane of the opposing traffic to speed ahead and pass a few civilian cars that suddenly stopped out of shock, “New plan. I know your arm hurts, but I’m going to need you to do your best to shoot back.”

He couldn’t look away, but he knew what Sehun probably looked like by now. Wild eyes. Potentially shaking hands. Terrified.

“What if I accidentally kill someone?” Sehun said.

“Can’t do worse than me,” Jongdae said.

“That’s different,” Sehun said, “I’m alive.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jongdae said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could, “Just shoot at the dashboard, and they’ll freak out. You don’t need to aim at people to defend yourself successfully.”

“What if I accidentally hit a civilian?” Sehun asked.

“You won’t,” Jongdae insisted, “I trust you, so trust yourself, too.”

Sehun took a deep breath and scrambled to his knees, ducking his head down as shots continued peppering the sides of the truck. He remembered what Jongdae taught him, reloaded the gun he picked up, and made his way to the side of the truck. After only hesitating for a second, he lifted up the window, and carefully returned fire.

Soon, the car beside them swerved right, and Jongdae lost them in the traffic.

“See?” Jongdae said, “You’re amazing.”

“Oh my god,” Sehun said, groaning before he leapt to the other side of the truck, stabilizing himself on the ice cream freezers before opening the other window and quickly shooting before he could change his mind.

Jongdae was just about to offer more words of encouragement before his phone rang. Grateful that the music was immediately silenced, he pressed the appropriate button on the wheel to pick up the call. He expected Minseok after reading the caller id, but he heard someone else.

“MOTHERfuCKER,” the voice bellowed.

Jongdae’s jaw dropped, and he immediately laughed, his shoulders shaking over and over again as a huge grin split across his face. His heart was beating so fast, not for any one particular reason, but for all. His heart proved that he was alive and showed he was feeling. Fear. Hope. Love. All of this and everything else all at once.

“You’re awake,” Jongdae said, not knowing when the laughter turned into tears.

“You’re fucking _right_ I’m awake,” Luhan shouted into the phone, “I finally wake up, and after two weeks of Minseok telling me to lay low, I finally know what the fuck you’ve been up to?”

“You’re _awake_ ,” Jongdae said, brushing aside his tears with one hand before moving it back to grip the wheel carefully. With resolution, Jongdae checked the rearview mirrors before swerving to avoid oncoming traffic.

“First of all….how fucking dare you do this without me? And…Wait. Is that gunfire?” Luhan said, stopping to listen. Sure enough, Sehun had managed to stand up and shoot from the back window at the cars that threatened to smash into the back of the truck.

“That’s Sehun,” Jongdae said, his voice trembling, “He says hi.”

“…Tell him I say hey, too,” Luhan said before resuming his fuming, “But second of all? What the fuck? Now I have to hear how you endangered yourself by going _alone_? Without even proper time to recover from…God, Jongdae, if you got yourself killed, I would’ve—”

“I’m still here,” Jongdae shouted, still smiling, “I’m still alive, and you are, too.”

“I…yeah,” Luhan said, a bit of his anger fading, “I’m right here. What do you need? Minseok’s set up blockades, and I’m waiting at a main one. You’re on the news, you know. Vulgar ice cream truck sends traffic into a panic.”

“Yifan’s mixtapes are accidentally playing,” Jongdae said, “Please stay on the line so the public will be spared from them.”

“Damn,” Luhan mused, “He’s going to be so excited to hear he made the news. What else do you need?”

“Have an ambulance ready when we get there,” Jongdae said. When. _When._ “Sehun’s injured.”

“You got it,” Luhan said, “Anything else? Backup’s coming. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, where are you? I’ll meet you there,” Jongdae said. Luhan gave him his location before telling him he’d stop talking now.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, grabbing the back of the passenger seat with a bloody hand before stumbling into the seat, “We’re out of bullets, and there aren’t any surprise flavors left.”

“Just rest,” Jongdae said, glancing to his right for a split second. Sehun leaned against the door, clutching his shoulder as he took deep breaths. “You did amazing, Sehun. I’ll take it from here.”

“I meant it,” Sehun said between breaths, “When this is all over, I’ll get your initials tattooed on my wrist…It’ll be a nice reminder of our job. How we met. How we fell. How we’re still here. KJD. OSH. Together. That’s us.”

“Tattoos are supposed to be for forever,” Jongdae smiled, “but they’re not. They fade, and you can even remove them if you want. Forever isn’t for forever, but I want to know how long it lasts when I spend it all with you.”

He was about to shout something, proclaim what he felt, but the words died in his throat and were left unsaid as he looked ahead. A herd of black cars sped towards them, but they were too far to do any damage. Just to be safe, Jongdae made two left turns and a right anyways, narrowly missing another mailbox. But it seemed Youngmin had men everywhere, and as soon as Jongdae took a moment to take a deep breath, more cars rushed at him from all the oncoming lanes. The sight triggered the memory he had been diligently trying to forget this whole ride.

“Luhan,” Jongdae softly said again, “Are you still there?”

“Always,” Luhan said, “You know it.”

“We got Youngmin,” Jongdae said, trying to distract himself, “He’s dead.”

Silence.

“Wow. It’s too bad he won’t be tried, but, still,” Luhan said, trailing off, “At least he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, “the day you fell unconscious…It was my fault, wasn’t it? I missed the shot, and I—”

“No,” Luhan said, “I can’t believe you fucking believed that this whole time. If I had known you were out there feeling like that I would’ve fought my way back to consciousness to tell you how fucking wrong you were.”

“I was the one who drove,” Jongdae said. He could feel Sehun’s gaze on him from the passenger’s seat.

“You were the one that got us out of there,” Luhan said, “And it wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen on the job. The other car hit us. It’s not your fault.”

“Sorry you missed nearly half a year of your life,” Jongdae said after a long exhale, brushing away a few more tears, “You missed a movie you really wanted to watch. A whole new season of that one anime is out.”

“Fuck. At least I don’t have to wait any longer, right? Watch it with me when this is all over,” Luhan said, “You can bring that guy that’s listening in. I’d like to meet him.”

“Hear that?” Jongdae laughed, turning to Sehun, “Get ready to meet the biggest jackass of all time.”

“The one and only,” Luhan said, “We should give your guy a nickname, too.”

“When we get there,” Sehun said, a small smile blooming on his face.

“I’m going to stop talking so you can focus, but I’m right here with you,” Luhan said.

Jongdae continued driving, and they were so close…almost there at the blockade. They could do this. He could do this. He didn’t second-guess his turns anymore even though he was terrified of messing up. But of course, nothing could ever be that easy, especially when Youngmin was involved.

Of course, like last time, more black cars cut across the intersection to drive towards them.

“Jongdae, you’re going to be fine,” Sehun said, noticing the abrupt change in Jongdae’s expression as he caught sight of them.

Of course, like last time, car after car continued to chase them while more appeared on the horizon. There was always more.

“Jongdae,” Sehun only managed to say, letting out a gasp as Jongdae drove onto the pavement before narrowly missing a red light. “…You’re doing just fine. It’s okay.”

Jongdae was too busy focusing, checking the mirrors, checking the streets ahead, checking everything to answer. More cars threatened to smash into the sides of the truck, and even more approached in front of them. Soon it became useless to turn to avoid the cars because they were just…everywhere. Jongdae wondered where the fuck that police backup was.

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Sehun suddenly yelled, pointing at the cars that began to drive dangerously close to the front of their truck. Even though Youngmin was dead, such was the price for messing with him.

At the last second, Jongdae swerved to the right with a loud scream tearing out of his throat.

At the last second, Jongdae realized what he had done.

At the last second, Jongdae let out a hysterical laugh as the closest oncoming car was inches away from just touching them.

“You okay?” Jongdae asked. He didn’t know how wild he must have looked now, but all that mattered was that they were safe, that Sehun was safe.

“Of course,” Sehun smiled easily even though he looked pale, “You make me brave, Jongdae.”

“You’re already brave on your own,” Jongdae said, slamming a hand on the steering wheel to emphasize what he felt, “The bravest.”

“Well, you inspire me to be braver than I already am then,” Sehun said.

“God,” Jongdae said, taking a split second to look at Sehun as he eased his foot off the accelerator, “After this is all done, you and me…Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” Sehun laughed, nodding in agreement.

Jongdae could see the end ahead, see the masses of red and blue flashing lights and hear the sirens that immediately sounded when they caught sight of them. Police cars zoomed past them, fending off the cars that immediately turned around, backed up, and tried to flee. Jongdae slowed down, took a deep breath, and stopped, keeping his foot on the brake as he rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment. But only just a moment, as he then pulled up and parked near the outskirts of the other police cars, shutting off the engine at last before opening the door. With shaky feet, Jongdae stepped out of the truck and fell to his knees, the gravel piercing the skin of his hands.

“I’m never driving again for at least another month,” Jongdae said, catching his breath even though he hadn’t even physically exerted himself.

“I’ll take you around in my motorcycle,” Sehun said, bending down to place a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Wait,” Jongdae said, shakily standing after Sehun helped him up, “Go see the ambulance. Don’t bleed out.”

“You’ll be fine, right?” Sehun asked, glancing over at the ambulance close by.

“I’m not the one who got shot,” Jongdae said.

“I’m not the one who drove,” Sehun said before smiling, “And safely got us here.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, smiling back, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Sehun stole one more look at him before he all but skipped to the ambulance, plopping himself down on the edge of the back as paramedics immediately tended to him. Good. Jongdae watched him a second longer before scanning the scene in front of him.

Across the space, Jongdae squinted, trying to see if his eyes had played a trick on him. But no. He immediately recognized that brown hair, the way those hands were shoved in the pockets of joggers, and that red snapback worn backwards.

Jongdae let out a yell and sprinted across the space. He underestimated himself, and even though he thought he was out of tears for the night, here he was letting out a cry once again as he ran straight towards Luhan and almost knocked him over with the force of his hug. But fuck that. After holding in all his tears, Jongdae didn’t care if he cried another twenty times tonight.

“What’s up, hot stuff,” Luhan laughed. Jongdae bent slightly downwards and buried his head into Luhan’s shoulder and felt fingers tousling his hair.

“You’re awake,” Jongdae said, hugging him so tightly they began to lose balance, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Luhan said, brushing away a tear of his own, “I’ve been awake for almost two weeks now, but Minseok wanted me to fully recover and then surprise you.”

“I would’ve wanted to see you as soon as you opened your eyes.” Jongdae said, straightening up and letting out a sigh.

“Minseok wouldn’t even let me leave the hospital until I was all cleared,” Luhan shook his head, “But he told me you visited as often as you could. Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Jongdae smiled, “You would’ve done the same for me.”

Luhan nodded before looking behind Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Oh!” Luhan said, pointing at Sehun, “You’re that sketch artist…the one that makes all the sketches look like real art and not just ugly ass mug shots.”

“You…remember me?” Sehun asked, taking a couple more steps forward until he stood directly behind Jongdae.

“Yeah, of course,” Luhan grinned, “I wondered what happened when I didn’t see you around for a while, but now you’re back. A hero.”

Sehun smiled, letting his good arm hang over Jongdae’s shoulder as he pressed his chin into the crook of Jongdae’s neck.

“You should’ve gone to the hospital,” Jongdae said, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sehun said, “It was only a graze, so they just bandaged me up for now. I couldn’t miss out on everything here.”

Jongdae doubted it was just a graze, but if the paramedics let him go, then the wound couldn’t have been too severe.

“Is this the one,” Luhan loudly said, not even bothering to whisper.

“I…” Jongdae said, looked back at Sehun who peeked up at him, waiting for his answer, “Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Luhan nodded, clapping slowly as he grinned, “I’m so glad…Take good care of him, all right?”

Sehun looked up with a smile and nodded.

“Make sure he doesn’t die when he’s on patrol with you, too,” Sehun said.

“Of course,” Luhan said, “And when you get married, I’ll have you know I already have my best man speech memorized. I can’t wait to tell everyone the time that—”

But before Jongdae could open his mouth to protest, Minseok called them over. Sehun suddenly straightened, lifting himself off of Jongdae.

“What do we have here,” Minseok said as the three of them lined up in front of him.

They must’ve been quite the sight. Luhan took his red snapback off to run his hands through his hair before putting it on again and pushing it backwards. Jongdae noticed for the first time that his clothes were sticky from the melted ice cream that dripped onto him after he had hacked the containers apart. Sehun looked straight at Minseok, giving him his full attention even though the graze in his shoulder that had bled out onto his shirt must have still stung.

“A jackass,” he said, pointing to Luhan.

“Hot stuff,” he said, pointing at Jongdae.

“And…a pretty boy,” Minseok said as he looked at Sehun.

“We should get jackets,” Luhan said, “really obnoxious ones with our nicknames on the back.”

“If you use the station’s budget for those, I’ll cut your pay,” Minseok said before he crossed his arms and continued speaking. “Anyways, there’s a lot of things I could tell you…like the bill for all that damage to public property is going to be _high_. Or I can’t imagine the amount of paperwork all of us will have to fill out…and all the hearings that’ll have to be scheduled.”

“You found Youngmin’s body at least, right?” Jongdae said.

“Yes,” Minseok nodded, “We only managed to arrest Jessica since the others who worked with her had absolutely no idea what was happening.”

Alone she worked, alone she lost.

“Did you get the women at the diner?” Jongdae asked.

“Just the four older women,” Minseok said, “The younger girls were gone by the time we reached the diner, but the others were together, destroying any other evidence they left.”

Together they lived, together they fell.

“So…that’s five out of…a lot of people,” Jongdae said, dropping his head. Hopefully some of the police would manage to catch the rest of Youngmin’s people.

“We’ll get them next time,” Luhan said.

“But despite this…Good work. Excellent job,” Minseok smiled. Jongdae glanced over at Sehun’s wide grin and felt content.

“Yeri’s in the car about to be taken to the station. She was the one that turned herself in and warned us that you and Yeeun had gone by yourselves to do something foolish,” Minseok said after Sehun had been summoned to help with sketches. He then whispered something else to him, and Jongdae raised his eyebrows.

“I can’t wait to tell her,” Jongdae said, lightly smacking Minseok’s shoulder.

He jogged over, leaving Minseok and Luhan behind.

“I guess I really should have seen this coming,” Yeri said, sitting up straight in the back of the police car as Jongdae opened the door.

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you,” Jongdae said.

“Sorry I didn’t listen to you earlier,” Yeri said.

“It’s okay,” Jongdae said, “You’re still a minor, so at least you won’t be imprisoned. Still, I’ll have Minseok put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks,” Yeri said before her smile drooped from her face, “But now who will look after my family?”

“We’ll take care of that,” Jongdae said before smiling, “And didn’t you hear? Your mother’s gone into remission.”

Yeri’s eyes widened, and her hands flew over her mouth as she gasped.

“For real? For _real_?” she loudly said.

When Jongdae nodded, she burst into tears and leapt out of the car, hugging Jongdae tightly. Jongdae held her back before she let him go and sat back down in the police car. Familiar arms soon touched Jongdae’s shoulders and massaged them for a few seconds.

“Is this the girl?” Luhan asked.

“Yeah,” Jongdae nodded, “Take care of her.”

Luhan bent down and waved at Yeri.

“Hey…I’m taking you to the station, but don’t worry about a thing,” Luhan said, “You’ll be fine.”

“Oh! You’re awake!” Yeri said, pointing her finger at Luhan.

“Oh, Jongdae told you about me? Yeah,” Luhan nodded, “As good as new. Almost…I still have a nasty scar, but Jongdae will cry if I mention that, so let’s keep quiet.”

Jongdae shoved him.

“Thanks for taking care of Jongdae when I was gone,” Luhan said, a bit more serious now, “You know how much trouble he gets himself into without me there, right?”

“Right,” Yeri said, “Too bad you didn’t wake up earlier so he wouldn’t have spiraled into a hole of useless regret and guilt. That’s on you, jackass.”

Luhan’s jaw dropped open, and he spluttered out a surprised _who are you calling jackass now?_

Yeri laughed, suddenly looking around before her jaw dropped open and she pointed behind them again. Jongdae didn’t need to know what she saw. Who she saw.

“How?” Yeri asked, glancing back at Jongdae with wide eyes.

“Bulletproof jacket. Strawberry syrup,” Jongdae said, “I was lucky I guessed properly.”

“Wow,” Yeri said, lowering her hand, “I guess you win….you’re the one living better.”

“A mistake doesn’t have to tell you where you’re going in the future,” Jongdae said, “You’ll be fine.”

“Watch me, Jongdae,” Yeri nodded, “I’m going to live better than you can even imagine.”

“Surprise me,” Jongdae smiled before shutting the door.

He watched as Luhan drove away, staring until the car disappeared into the night. Letting his hands fall at his sides, Jongdae walked back to where the main squad of police cars still congregated to sort out the final details. Sehun was with a police officer that held out a sketchpad for him, nodding as he looked down and let his pencil whirl across the blank piece of paper. Jongdae stood next to him as he sketched, watching as almost a photograph appeared within minutes.

The police officer looked impressed and didn’t need to make any adjustments to the sketch, so Sehun tore it out of the page and handed it to her. Now they were alone, nothing but cars around them, flashing lights illuminating the gradually lightening night sky.

“So,” Sehun said, taking a step closer to Jongdae before leaning on the car behind them.

“So,” Jongdae said, leaning closer until the sides of their bodies were pressed against each other.

For a while, they stood next to each other in silence and watched as the sun drowsily peeked out of the sky for the day. Pink swirls and lazy clouds drifted across the early morning sky, and Jongdae felt warm.

Now they were not Jongdae the ice cream boy and Sehun the fashion model, both caught between intel collection through undercover arms dealing, but now just this. Jongdae the police officer and Sehun the sketch artist both caught between endless affection and heart stealing.

“I was serious about everything I said and did when we were undercover,” Sehun said at last, “I really do like you a lot, Jongdae. Like at the minimum. And I can’t seem to figure out the capacity of my heart because there’s so much I feel for you, but I’m way past the minimum now.”

Jongdae turned his head to look at Sehun, and there was no tremble in his voice, no shaking in his hands, and he looked straight on, directly at Jongdae with a steady gaze.

“I haven’t figured out exactly how much affection my heart can carry for you, too,” Jongdae admitted, bumping Sehun’s uninjured arm with his own, “But I’m telling you there’s no limit. Every day you surprise me…and every time I see the same smiles, hear the same laughter, I just…You’re the person I’d like to come home to after a long day of work, the person I’d get on my knee for, the person I’d fight death itself for.”

“Then that’s it,” Sehun said, “Together, let’s go—”

But then the reality of the situation suddenly sank in, and Jongdae widened his eyes. He was used to long hours at work, long hours dedicated to stakeouts, long hours spent even after his shift was over handling paperwork. What would Sehun think now that they were just this, back to their regular jobs?

“But what if you don’t think I, a cop, am worth the time? What if you get to know me more outside all of this and realize there’s nothing else? What if I always have to work? What if you don—” Jongdae rambled, panicking as his fingers flew up to cover half his face.

“So what?” Sehun said, interrupting Jongdae firmly, “I’ve seen you in action. We’ve fought together, bled together, escaped death together. Even if you have work more often than not, so what? I’ll wait for you until you come home. Even if you think you’re different outside of your job, so what? I’ll learn to love that part of you, too, just like I already love this part you’ve shown me. We’re young. We have time. We’ll be fine.”

Jongdae let out a deep breath and gazed fondly at Sehun, slowly moving his hands away from his face.

“So I’m guessing you probably don’t want ice cream for our first official date, right?” Jongdae asked.

And then Sehun said something that caused Jongdae to laugh until he cried, that caused him to stretch his hands forwards to gently touch the sides of Sehun’s face, that caused him to kiss Sehun so fiercely, so fully, so finally that even death stopped to watch a love that he himself could not bear to separate.

“To be honest, I’m actually more of a frozen yogurt guy.”


End file.
